| Searching for a mode and for a method
|
| What’s he thinking and what the fuck is he saying?
|
| And does it matter anyway?
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| «Never again…» I begin to think
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| As the liquid seeps in and the agony escapes my lungs
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| The simple concept of trust
|
| You can’t take back some mistakes
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| You’ve come to see me, now I know that my life must end
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| And while I may be forgotten, there will be no forgiveness
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| You’ve come to see me, now I know that my life must end
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| Searching for mode or motivation… what was I thinking?
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| Dreaming in dog years
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| And though I may be forgotten, there will be no forgiveness
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| You’ve come to see me, now I know that my life must end
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| Be it seven seconds or seven years
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| It doesn’t matter when you’re dreaming in dog years
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| Just like the kiss that condemned christ
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| It was such a pity to throw what we had away Dreaming
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| Now, I’m not afraid to die
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| Just like the kiss that condemned christ, what a pity
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| You threw it all away. |
| Dog years
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| Now I’m not afraid to die
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| There’s nothing left. |
| Dreaming
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| Splitting headaches and random thoughts… what matters anyways?
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| Hypertension? |
| Diabetes?
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| I had it all, now I can’t feel my legs
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| I heard the metal clank, and Guy just sold out good ole' Bud
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| And it’s not gonna be alright
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| And it’s not going to be «ok.» |