come , beat the rust
inhale , breath the dust
dodge , get out of this mist
vindicate , slash ur left wrist
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drop death in the middle of the night , yeah . . .
soul trace all the lost acquitence ,yeah . . .
all stars shining brighter then the moon ,yeah . . .
m feeling the same 'óld nostalgia , . . . :(
this feelings is bowing me over
m struck in this morning hour
flared fellings are spelling there magic
slashing own wrist is deemed very tragic
repercussions of a different demographic
covering my minds with all ill tactics
failed again to carry the same little practice
this deja-vu is turning out as another semantic :\
got struct again in the middle of sucide , yeah . . . :(
these memories are hard to reside in , yeah . . . :(
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