I followed your every move
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in a stride that wills disguise,
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the little markings clue the find.
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Your red lips speak of painted figures,
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the teeth of mangled little listeners,
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the thoughts that hide your rusty scissors;
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and Hooded men,
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swinging honesty across this violence.
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Obscurity has no hero.
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The world looks better when you¡¯re falling
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Grace to comfort enough to crawling
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Divided we must pray for the broken, no one could fix us.
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We are, we¡¯ll always be the wronged.
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Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah
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Your touch seethes of emptiness,
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The callous tips against the brush,
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The world's now breaking off to crust...
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The world looks better when you¡¯re falling
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Grace to comfort enough to crawling
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Divided we must pray for the broken, no one could fix us.
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We are, we¡¯ll always be the wronged.
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We're conspiring...
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Where was your heart, when we needed it most?
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Live in denial, and I¡¯ll be your ghost.
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There is nothing to let go, only time will let you know,
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If you¡¯re worth anything. You¡¯ll know - that I¡¯m
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Giving up way too early, Let the axis turn you free,
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and destroy everything you love.
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The world looks better when you¡¯re falling
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Grace to comfort enough to crawling
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Divided we must pray for the broken, no one could fix us.
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We are, we are...
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We are, we are...
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We are, we'll always be
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The Wronged.
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-----------------
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The Broken
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Coheed And Cambria |