| I know., clock is ticking back I know
|
| Those pictures in my mind
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| Were chained upon a chain of blood hypnotic wounded feelings from my mind
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| Her eyes to see
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| Idolize my pain inside our veins I check the limits of pain
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| And the following game
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| The following game
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| It’s a never-ending sea
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| Of melancholy
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| Hope, idolize and give pain, idolize and give haze
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| Appreciation but always in a haze
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| Mesmerized, no place to hide, speechless, nothing to say
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| Covered by ashes, years of loss, by the burning bridge of hope
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| Hypnotic wounded feelings from my mind, conquer me
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| It’s a never-ending sea, of melancholy in me
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| I share no doubt
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| Dirty needs for a dirty knife
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| And the colors inside
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| The colors inside…
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| At the tale, from august 98
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| Questions I have had
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| Questions, they refuse to die, refuse to disappear
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| Endless hours, smoky days, smell the stench of mind
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| Spell was sent one august night
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| Pictures of our pride
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| A storm upon an icy heart
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| Stone-cold I have been
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| Faces cursed under the spell
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| All those eyes have seen
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| Naked both under the curse |
| Eternal mournful beings
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| Beauty of your open wounds
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| And mine to fill
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| Naked both under the curse
|
| Eternal mournful being
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| Dirty needs of a dirty knife
|
| And the colors deep inside
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| Feels like a never ending sea
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| Of melancholy in me
|
| Spell was sent one august night
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| Once and straight to kill your pride
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| Awaits to haunt… |