| Delirium through smoke stabs my being again,
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| alters my essence metamorphic, metaphoric, hilarious and decadent.
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| Millions of images heap in the same point
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| and fall together in my spiral of destruction.
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| Hitting life’s screen… Reverberating,
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| modifying, moulding all my thoughts.
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| By smoke diffused. |
| By smoke distorted.
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| By smoke diffused. |
| By smoke distorted.
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| By smoke diffused. |
| By smoke confused.
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| Trying to find some answers I built my reality.
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| Deformed cycles of life are all what I could see.
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| I fight to drive my mind again to what I am
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| This foggy smoke is corrupting me,
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| What I’ve created I must destroy.
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| A crystal wall I raised around me
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| to protect myself from every hurting thing.
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| It’s hard to see this reality.
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| Life is always easy if you don’t live it.
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| I’m hidden behind this shield of glass,
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| which is blurring me to the others and the other way round.
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| By smoke diffused. |
| By smoke distorted.
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| By smoke diffused. |
| By smoke distorted.
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| So many reasons pull me under,
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| I cannot stand this state.
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| To drain the pain I fill my mind with illusions,
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| it’s better to give up to the streams of emptiness.
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| Exaltation leads my way.
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| I try to fight every day against myself.
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| Self-Punishment is the right way to be me.
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| What I’ve created
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| I must destroy.
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| By Iban de Dios / Guillem Rejón / Sergi Gracia |