| Do you dream of the life you’d like to have?
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| Do you love old things? |
| Do they make you sad?
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| The thought of losing your loved ones fills you with fear
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| The cold stone statues know you’re here
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| Don’t turn your back, blink and your dead
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| Your stolen moments left unread
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| The touch of an Angel, cold and fast
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| Your future will lie in the past
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| They’re the creatures of the abstract
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| They feast on the days you may have had
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| They’re lonely assassins made of ston
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| Just close your eyes, thn you’re gone
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| Don’t turn your back, blink and your dead
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| Your stolen moments left unread
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| The touch of an Angel, cold and fast
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| Your future will lie in the past
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| They’re faster than you can believe
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| On potential energy they’ll feed
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| Displaced in time by an ancient hand
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| Or quantum locked by a single glance |