| There’s no real way to make the best of the worst
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| We are sentenced at birth onto a prison we still call the Earth
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| The pre-adolescent mind records
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| And stores all that they see, feel, and hear
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| And the actions of adulthood at best are carried out in fear
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| A figure of neglect stands above the shape of innocence
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| Succumbs to insecurities and issues cruel punishment
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| Unqualified, yet socially identified as symbols of poverty
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| Entitled to our cognizance
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| You can burn in hell for knowing what you know
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| Projections of a bastard, reaping what you sow
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| Feeding the illusion, a child’s faith erodes
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| A new soul, a blank face
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| An innocent expression already erased
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| A new soul into the arms of cruelty
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| A blank face into the arms of cruelty
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| An innocent expression into the arms of cruelty
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| Already erased
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| There’s no real way to make the best of the worst
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| We are sentenced at birth onto a prison we still call the Earth
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| Why can you ignore the warnings?
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| And how can you truly welcome the product of yourself
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| Into the arms of cruelty?
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| Feeding the illusion that you want them in your custody
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| The helpless child trusts the arms of cruelty
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| A new soul into the arms of cruelty
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| A blank face into the arms of cruelty
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| An innocent expression into the arms of cruelty
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| Already erased |