| Figures come out of the rainy fog
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| silhouettes are passing by like running time
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| Winter’s hot and its sun burns my skin
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| thousand raindrops the alibi for a poor god
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| Smells like dry sore, seems that it grows
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| constantly changing its shapes, we are but apes
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| Smells like dry sore, its my contempt for them
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| my past is black, my present black, their faces suck
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| WHEN ALL IS BLACK
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| They will always dry out
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| Like raisins in the sun
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| They fester like a sore and run
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| My foe is just you and your twins
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| You always skate on thin ice byt never drown
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| Your indifference has grown
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| Your days are numbered, you know
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| Your fear is an expensive whore
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| Your descendants forlorn
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| my past is black, my present black, their faces suck
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| WHEN ALL IS BLACK |