| Creature burn my grave to the ground
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| If you know that you are right
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| If the TV is not a new star
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| I don't give a fuck about all this and burn everything to the ground
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| And my grave will soon be in ashes forever
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| I fucked all your games and I won't rejoice
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| What is this bitch hiding? |
| Only fabulous failure
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| The resin only gets cold on the teeth, and in the hand a pack of Winston
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| Again blood on the hair, the same forest on the bodies
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| Again winter and again my house
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| According to the new saw and death
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| I burn whiskey with ice again
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| And I see the sunset on an old day
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| From there and blood on my hair
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| A forest is visible in the distance, my conscience is clear
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| Flies in a glass at the bottom of my ego
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| I love neither myself nor the world, nobody
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| And it's my fear that spares no one
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| Fuckers will come and go with their heads
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| The grave will fix all your problems
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| But just burn it down to a raspberry
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| Cars, cars, whores, and money
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| Don't replace my soul so much
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| How brothers do with the calculation in mobile phones
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| Coming out of the cold with renewed vigor
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| My grave mound is filled with the worst dream
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| The dream is filled with thoughts about the future with my country
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| If you fucking believe, then I don't
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| Before I die, I will capture the moment
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| My grave mound, my grave mound (grave mound)
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| It is filled with the most terrible dream
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| It is about thoughts and about the future who will stand by
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| Who will be right and who is justified is buried behind the wall |