| I feel they stare at me
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| With their eyes closed
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| Sleeping and defenseless
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| Like their existence were
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| From the past remains and pieces
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| Like my forgotten episodes
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| Confined in old book’s dust
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| Fire
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| In this court you are convicted of treason
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| You are condemned to be erased
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| Remember the darkness
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| Colors have disappeared
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| Lost in the new born texture
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| Your hidden childhood anguish so quiet
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| Your faces move around the deafening silence
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| Lost name
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| I can hear your screams under my fingers
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| I tear the pages away, crush them
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| Collection of dead portraits
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| Never mind this desperate howling
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| None can understand
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| Killing you once again doesn’t matter
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| Something has devoured me
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| Rage and conflict burn
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| Sweet and terrifying
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| You are just things
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| All the pages I’ve ripped willl be back in vain
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| To torture me and play my inner theater again
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| The candle’s flame makes the lines of your silhouette dance
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| Mom you look so beautiful in pieces |