| With the dragon’s weight
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| And police make siren sounds wind down my street to take
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| The breath from my lungs sweet
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| I tried so hard to cover up this taste
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| It’s like a sinner’s constant fall from grace
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| I changed my name, my voice, my face
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| I killed my name, my voice, my pace
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| And antibiotics on the sixteenth day of Mai
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| I lost my will
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| Forms a new fate this reoccurring theme has killed my faith
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| IT’s drowning me in stereo and waste
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| And all my bridges burn together
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| And now my city lights are turning down this thin white line
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| I follow blind, you tried to help me but I have to drown
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| Acts of faith the makeup on my sinner’s face
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| I run so hard at absent pace to cover up this bitter taste of waste |