| There’s no door in these cold walls
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| Surrounded by the infinite
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| My card is reading cardiac
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| My thoughts won’t seem to comprehend
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| Why? |
| The lost sentence, in varieties of religious experience
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| The truth: a direful legacy, has driven me to my knees
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| I’m hurt
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| Pschiatric disbelieve, «good luck when you’re panoplied»
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| A force divided by slavery, a senseless futility
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| A must to see the unholy state, in which I was held for a while
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| A study in grief taking over my mind, as I declared my soul to behind
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| Just longing for the first day, to say, I’m back this time I’m here to stay
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| Can’t you see the one aspect, that makes my gift to innocence
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| The metaphysics were caressed, by every bit of air I breathed
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| In lustfulness
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| I’ve lost, a loser without a name, must be my contribute
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| Your trust, the effort of ficticiousness, my grief is compelling me
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| The sign, the sign is for all to see, I know what to do with thee
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| Waverer, to bewail, led defeats
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| Engrossing my fate, my heart’s decadence, capitulation
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| Time to intrude, to declare the fate, an angel will fall
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| My aspiration, you beg, the iteration, imbibes, as only you can
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| I’ve tried, to leave this fucking hell |