| In splendour we progress
|
| This whimsical world
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| All we consume
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| And let time progress
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| Blessed are the blind for they see no evil
|
| Every moment a chance, a chance to forget
|
| Like animals we flee from the flames
|
| Ignorance conceals the blood on our hands
|
| There is no goal
|
| Abstract faith our shelter
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| Spiritual self-medication
|
| And the faithness are lost
|
| Blessed are the blind for they see no evil
|
| Every moment a chance, a chance to forget
|
| Like animals we flee from the flames
|
| Ignorance conceals the blood on our hands
|
| Conducting our own end
|
| With sublime paradox
|
| We are the army
|
| Of the dying sun
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| Blood loss of an entire people
|
| We draw the lies of this self-imposed evil
|
| There is no hope, our spirit is broken
|
| Choked out by our own hand
|
| Shed no tears for this our demise
|
| We are the makers of this ending
|
| Architects of downfall, diplomats of suicide
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| We are the army of the dying sun |