| Why can’t I feel the life that I breathe?
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| Why am I so consumed?
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| Despair the face of every strain my thoughts are weak and torn
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| Reap what you have sewn
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| The flame that burns my heart is blown
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| I wear a face that hides my pain amidst my world of anger
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| How much longer can I remain, behind this mask of the damned
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| As I walk along this bacchanal of sin
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| It allows the darkness of my soul to fester within
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| Reap what you have sewn
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| My faith in life is gone
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| This world prepares a feverfeast that feeds the beast
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| Governed by the wayward souls of forgotten worlds
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| My world prepares a feverveast that feeds the beast
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| Spoken by the wayward souls, their forgotten words
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| I bide my time awaiting one final chance to reflect on the past
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| Of this disease I call my life
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| As I walk along this bacchanal of sin
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| It allows the darkness of my soul to fester within
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| Reap what you have sewn, my faith in life is gone
|
| This world prepares a feverfeast that feeds the beast
|
| Governed by the wayward souls of forgotten worlds
|
| My world prepares a feverveast that feeds the beast
|
| Spoken by the wayward souls, their forgotten words. |