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NOTE: This one's about the Id.
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it's your scent
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it's on the ground
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and no matter how i fight it, my instinct will hunt you down
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and you roam
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and you breathe
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the midnight air - the spider's web
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and the gust blows thru the trees
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your words
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are so profound
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and my appetite's enticed by every syllable you sound
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and you roam
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and you breathe
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the midnight air - the tangled web
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and the gust blows thru the trees
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i grope the air
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my fingers clutch
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your instinct to run is overcome in need of touch
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and you roam
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and you breathe
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the midnight air - the spider's web
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and the gust blows thru the trees
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startled you stare - taking in all that is there
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instinct to leave is now stiffled by belief
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instinct
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State Of Being |