This cold floor we know too well. hearts poisoned with pride.
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Black blood dotting our warmth.
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Ending our contentment.
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This place is a contorted altar.
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I must seek strength from somwhere,
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For I've reduced myself to nothing.
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We've been here one thousand times.
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Cold idle hands, floor-welcomed knees.
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Hello autumn, I need not your companionship.
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Doubtless I stand; laying my heart into the hands of eternity.
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Revive me doctines!
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Await the day, when all our blood will wash away.
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The world's balance I'm too familiar with;
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Selfishness outweighs genorosity
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Blindness produced by your own hands afront your face.
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Lips bleeding with guilt.
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Frightful little fiends.
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If these words mean nothing; than where is the conclusion?
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Lyricism aside, Christ is the deduction
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Who Speaks Spanish? Colon Quesadilla
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| The Devil Wears Prada |