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Á¦¸ñ: Suicide;Stigma
°¡¼ö: The Color Morale


So much heart, so much time, but not enough.
Self-inflicted pain can come and
Remain in the fear inside of all of us,
Desperately and endlessly
Trying to find a means to some kind of peace.
We can't learn when things come easy.
Now that we are prepared for war,
We have an effective means to
Preserving peace for each and everyone.
The chances of you even being born
Were forty million to one.
There's two parts of the statistic;
I want you to live.
Suicide doesn't end the pain,
it passes to the ones you love and remains.
Take yourself out of the equation
And the problem stays.
When I speak such a word,
Are you uneasy with how it's heard?
The stigma will never leave
Unless all of us can just start talking.
The only people I know resting in peace
Without fear or anxiety are the deceased.
That's why they say "may the dead rest in peace."
The things we feel we could never change,
Can end up changing everything.
Now that we are prepared for war,
We have an effective means to
Preserving peace for each and everyone.
The chances of you even being born
Were forty million to one.
There's two parts of the statistic
And I want you to live through one.
Sometimes to win a battle inside, you need to start a war.
Sometimes to win a battle inside, you need to start a war.
Now that we are prepared for war,
We have an effective means to
Preserving peace for each and everyone.
The chances of you even being born
Were forty million to one.
There's two parts of the statistic
And I want you to live through one
I want you to live through one.
I want you to live through one.

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Suicide;Stigma
The Color Morale



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