| IN THE MIDDLE OF A WAR THAT WAS NOT STARTED BY ME
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| DEEP DEPRESSION OF THE NUCLEAR REMAINS
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| I’VE NEVER THOUGHT OF, I’VE NEVER THOUGHT ABOUT
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| THIS HAPPENING TO ME
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| PROLIFERATIONS OF IGNORANCE
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| ORDERS THAT STAND TO DESTROY
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| BATTLEFIELDS AND SLAUGHTER
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| NOW THEY MEAN MY HOME AND MY WORK
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| WHO HAS WON?
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| WHO HAS DIED?
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| BENEATH THE REMAINS
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| CITIES IN RUINS
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| BODIES PACKED ON MINEFIELDS
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| NEUROTIC GAME OF LIFE AND DEATH
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| NOW I CAN FEEL THE END
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| PREMONITION ABOUT MY FINAL HOUR
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| A SAD IMAGE OF EVERYTHING
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| EVERYTHING’S SO REAL
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| WHO HAS WON?
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| WHO HAS DIED?
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| EVERYTHING HAPPENED SO QUICKLY.
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| I FELT I WAS ABOUT TO LEAVE HELL
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| I’LL FIGHT FOR MYSELF, FOR YOU, BUT SO WHAT?
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| TO FEEL A DEEP HATE
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| TO FEEL SCARED
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| BUT BEYOND THAT, TO WISH BEING AT AN END
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| CLOTTED BLOOD
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| MASS MUTILATION
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| HOPE FOR THE FUTURE IS ONLY UTOPIA
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| MORTALITY, INSANITY, FATALITY
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| YOU’LL NEVER WANT TO FEEL WHAT I’VE FELT
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| MEDIOCRITY, BRUTALITY, AND FALSITY
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| IT’S JUST A WORLD AGAINST ME
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| CITIES IN RUINS
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| BODIES PACKED ON MINEFIELDS
|
| NEUROTIC GAME OF LIFE AND DEATH
|
| NOW I CAN FEEL THE END
|
| PREMONITION ABOUT MY FINAL HOUR
|
| A SAD IMAGE OF EVERYTHING
|
| EVERYTHING’S SO REAL
|
| WHO HAS WON?
|
| WHO HAS DIED?
|
| BENEATH THE REMAINS
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| The pest in the eyes of death follows us
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| Through the dirty streets of blood
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| It begins to eat inside us, decaying our bones
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| How will we escape if the void covers our lungs?
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| We are buried in the spewed trash for ourselves
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| Blood, pain — nothing to say
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| Why then — must we die?
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| Escape to the void
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| Escape to the void
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| I look at my face on the other side of the mirror
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| My face falls down in pieces full of worms
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| I burst my rotten heart with my own hands
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| I’m dying and I can’t help myself
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| Blood, pain — nothing to say
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| Why then — must we die?
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| What have I been running from?
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| I’m not guilty
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| You’ve shown me the worst way
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| Cause you’re my victim… the next one
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| The pest in the eyes of death follows us
|
| Through the dirty streets of blood
|
| It begins to eat inside us, decaying our bones
|
| How will we escape if the void covers our lungs?
|
| We are buried in the spewed trash for ourselves
|
| Blood, pain — nothing to say
|
| Why then — must we die?
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| Escape to the void
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| Escape to the void |