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In a world of devoid of emancipation |
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Like leaves too many question marks |
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On my conscience, why? |
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Why look up |
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The ground is so much more pleasing |
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And it's where these eyes belong |
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I renounce, |
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I renounce myself |
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What I have become is not |
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What I wish to be |
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Break my neck |
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I've become too accustomed to hopes |
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Hope's cruel grasp |
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Progression or regression |
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It all ends the same |
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In a world devoid |
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Emotionless |
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In a life such as this |
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Only death is certain |
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So why wait |
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Break my heart |
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Cut my throat |
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When everything has ended |
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What have we accomplished |
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Slaves by design |
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Break my neck |