| Affectation was an early sign
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| Of a twisted mind
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| All virtues had faded away
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| Apprehension made her cold
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| But warm she was inside
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| The child within her died
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| And left her with a heart of stone
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| Surface anger was a thin disguise
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| Yet at night she cries
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| Behold the pain in her eyes
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| Degradation was a grind
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| Her true self left behind
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| Compassion you will find
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| Hidden by a veil of deception
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| And so the story goes
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| That’s the way she chose to live her life
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| And anybody knows
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| The way it feels when you hurt inside
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| She’s running from herself
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| The game of life in which she played
|
| Looking back upon the early years
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| There was room for tears
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| But she chose to push them away
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| Condemnation was a vice
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| She chose to roll the dice
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| And so she paid the price
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| Misery was her only friend
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| Inner feelings were a neutral zone
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| Though she tried to condone
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| In a world she faced so alone
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| Her salvation came too late
|
| And on that day she died
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| No one even cried
|
| Forgot about the veil of deception
|
| And so the story goes
|
| That’s the way she chose to live her life
|
| And anybody knows
|
| The way it feels when your hurt inside
|
| She’s running from herself
|
| The game of life in which she played |