| What has changed since the last pen taken in hand
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| It is a strange sense my thoughts recall each other
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| To identify themselves but they are voices belonging to others
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| Eyes like dead headlights, careful not to reveal themselves
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| Too much from under my hat I peer
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| I sound mute but I am not lost perhaps confused
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| I hope in a passing state
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| But flashes of an abyss appear to me and I'm falling right into it
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| A poison slips down the throat but leaves no trace
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| It spits in the face it's blade and it cuts me
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| Assassina my soul is fast
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| Succession with suggestion decapitates
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| Every defense takes hold of my subconscious
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| It takes you by surprise and I might as well not hide
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| Altered state commanded
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| Only from the bad thoughts that invade me!
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| My gray matter has a dark side
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| That doesn't make me feel safe or trust anyone anymore
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| The psyche is my map I go on its paths
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| Even if today they are full of only bad thoughts!
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| It saddens me but considering everything I saw
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| Risk of becoming pessimistic
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| I insist by analyzing I am viewing a track
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| Crossing the fray of images
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| Silent feelings lie at the bottom
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| Contempt and anger towards everything around
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| Why I wonder I look inside myself and see
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| Ideas so unhealthy that even my alter ego escapes
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| Surprised by so much nastiness inside every artery
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| Run away hard as if there was a killer chasing him
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| He runs fast and doesn't turn around
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| This time I go back to dealing with my feelings of guilt
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| Undecided and incidentally divided
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| Dissociated almost as if I had killed myself
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| Darkness and light cloud my field of vision
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| Everywhere there is a trace of a great decline!
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| My gray matter has a dark side
|
| That doesn't make me feel safe or trust anyone anymore
|
| The psyche is my map I go on its paths
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| Even if today they are full of only bad thoughts! |