| Abstract tears to the ground
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| Soft years of melancholy
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| A draft of inner advice
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| To welcome the strangers neighbor
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| A vast, swift talk of romance and despair
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| A bellboy’s journey through the eight limbs of Yoga
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| An efficient success of lost ego and body
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| Flannel flirtation, a chasm of childish obedience
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| And I can see you all, for this is without blur
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| Glorious destruction
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| Glorious creation
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| Grimly folds with luminous elegance
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| Winged between the corroded amber
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| I scent a fragrance from the past
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| Bright as death, it came soaring towards me
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| Something’s missing and I don’t know what it is
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| Forlon satisfaction, admitting the selfish seal
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| And the serpent’s steel
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| Directly from the ocean of flowers
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| Visual contact, planet B8----18
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| Sonar disturbance
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| Asmodeus comes with terror
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| In spontaneous air corridors
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| All for the phantom to inhale
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| For today is forever
|
| And the world grew without form
|
| And for those who planted their seeds of
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| Reliant vulnerability
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| Chakra Nadmara, I wish I was as fresh as you
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| Find your way, the «asphyx» teaches
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| Rumble, dismay, a chronicle of the samurai
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| Oh you are crystalline, I say, you are made of pain
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| For only suffering can create such beauty
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| And only suffering can wipe out your tears
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| I remember I ate of the tree
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| And hence of the wisdom of which we may speak of
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| The tedious ones are those who attends the mask of
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| Which they seek
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| I open up for the flavor of starvation
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| There is absolutely no one there
|
| And «his» is for sure, as we grasp to reach the light
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| Slowly to mosey
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| I’ll drag you by your horns
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| For with a whirling emblem cracking the dawn
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| I face the goat at sunrise |