I learned the ways herein in this land of the cold and damp, dark and
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grim. And dream for my tongue to dance upon her skin. This pain - I
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bore this angel - I adore.
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Give me more!!!
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And now, this time, the opus of a decade is over, and now what?
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She was the last of the ones.
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The missing piece, one final gem to bring me the truth.
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Might as well pack up your bags, cause the bell rings, you're finished!
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And go ahead and think about me on your way home, well, you may well!
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And when the broken wing of a memort asks me Why?
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A tear from them will flood what is known.
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But I won't reach the ending, the day won't come,
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because the heir to the dreams is dead!
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My vains paint this world red!!!
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Not With Tainted Blood
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December Wolves |