“I'm trying to find out… Who is this?”
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- I do not know.
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- Who are you waiting for?
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- No, they made a mistake...
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- Sit!
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Why does the voice sound only inside me?..
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Don't you hear me!...
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To whom did I exchange the Gift? ..
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Who did I choose as God?
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Why does the voice sound only inside me?..
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Don't you hear me!...
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To whom did I exchange the Gift? ..
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Who did I choose as God?
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Secrets of the hate of the damned...
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You... Weaved with gifts of tribute only,
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On the way people, and I believed it was ...
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Into these myths...the church of churches!
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The birch trees wept with sap after
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I saw a field of stumps up to the elbow...
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Wind, friend of the prisoners, thank you for your devotion,
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Fly away forever!
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A little golden sun, sand,
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Feet covered in blood
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Hands are chained, let me go like a bird to the sky, please...
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I lost my words inhaling the miracle here ...
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From the lips of the main ones, those who can take away,
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Faith forever or give immortality.
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I was one of those who took out the anger,
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Weaved, with the gifts of my tribute!
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Theater of shadows, theater of the faceless,
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And I can't stop it
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The pain of the old, the pain of knowledge,
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The pain of stone, The pain of these confessions,
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I will be faithful to you, fulfilling your dreams,
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'Cause I'm stubborn and young, look!
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Give me the power to beat in the chest
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Melt so much and I will build a Temple for God! ..
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Shame on Heaven, we weren't there!
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He built, kneaded blood and pain, howled without strength,
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The world was not nice with those intentions
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There were no such measures by which he measured,
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With whom did he deal, but everything was in full swing!
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Smoldered but not a word, glory boiled,
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On the heads of vile, caudle demons,
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Could the darkness then penetrate the free!
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Accept your slaves with the spirit of the weak,
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Glory, and then sweet, sleepy drugs ...
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Woven, therefore, from tin and hunger,
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He folded a little.
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There fell the light of a lamp,
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He kneaded alloys with a smile of a greedy lest,
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To make gold or shame, I drew patterns myself
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Burned by the blood of their enemies!
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He was handsome, like an icon, but up to the elbows in the blood,
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Tried to lift the vaults of Darkness,
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Silent clay bells!
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Altars sighed in fragments of squabbles,
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The birches were crying... Isn't it too early, wounds?
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Now you are not happy. |
Here's a bowl of poison
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There is no need for carrion that sings at a distance!
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The building was given, to share desires, with expectation ...
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Executed the days in different ways with anticipation of the holiday,
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When the last word is spoken
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No sooner said than done, called woven,
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The last day again howled like a bitch,
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In the morning I could only utter a single sound...
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From the servants hear only rumors
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About the lost power of speech...
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On this in this hall we extinguish candles ... |