| Back to the turning point
|
| I wear my heart on my sleeve
|
| Saved from judgement with a noose for my neck
|
| They praise the champions of habit and wish death upon refugees
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| Only the soulless remain after the cleansing and wrath
|
| After the cleansing and wrath
|
| Fly with your own kind
|
| We all have something to prove
|
| But there are few who dare to live from the inside out
|
| Fake conceptions challenge our reality
|
| Question your reality
|
| Beyond the boundaries that caged me
|
| Behind the skyline of death
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| Within our reach yet so distant
|
| Confront normality
|
| I’ve spent my days in the gutter
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| Trying to find myself beneath the bricks of my sanity
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| Between our shelter and shame lies a pathway that takes us home
|
| Fly with your own kind
|
| We all have something to prove
|
| But there are few who dare to live
|
| From the inside out
|
| Fake conceptions challenge our reality |