| I am myself the best friend of mine
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| I am all to me, no talking back
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| Having tripped myself up
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| I tend to get self-obsessed
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| Me myself, the best friend of mine
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| That’s what I am, the good and bad
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| Who am I and what?
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| A confessor and jester too
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| Keep smiling despite of pain
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| Nobody says «How do you do»
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| Perverted fate, eternal trap
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| I am forgetting the colour of my soul
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| I am a clockwork, who’s gonna wind me up
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| I used to play a merry song, now gone with time
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| Before I’m ground and melted
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| Sooner or later, yet still I long
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| To play for the last time
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| I do not beg for mercy or condolence
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| It is a chasm
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| The words of pain drown in spirit
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| And the world flees by all self-absorbed behind the curtain
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| The inner fight for the peace of soul rages in the roar
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| For the lied-up
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| No hope for ceasefire
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| Smile at me and wish me rest
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| Depression has its positives
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| They’re birth pangs of a smile
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| Stab my heart and catch the blood
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| I’ve reached my hands at the grievous moment
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| Tomorrow is near, hopefully better
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| Hopefully better
|
| The words of pain drown in spirit
|
| And the world flees by all self-absorbed behind the curtain
|
| The inner fight for the peace of soul rages in the roar
|
| For the lied-up |