| By sick fate we are born
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| They should have used condoms
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| Everything is being blamed on us
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| Mistakes, their fuck-ups
|
| Weight of the world on shoulders
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| Mentally so close to breakdown
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| Life tends to become distorted
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| When everything is shit except piss
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| Suicide is not a solution
|
| But it remains an excellent option
|
| Perhaps the time is ripe to go
|
| Time to harvest what we have sown
|
| From wet womb we are torn
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| Thrown in their nightmare world
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| Year after year being pushed too far
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| Till we cross the final line
|
| Suicide is not a solution
|
| But it remains an excellent option
|
| Perhaps the time is ripe to go
|
| Time to harvest what we have sown
|
| Rotten seeds have now grown up
|
| Separate them from the good ones
|
| May all deathwishes come now true
|
| And conclude that: B.16.15.18.21.24.25!!! |