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lyrics
I didn't sleep for many months
But I'm not tired,
Except I'm tired being me
'cause I'm a liar.
Now I feel my head is heavy
Full of sorry, dreary ideas,
So I drop off dull
as I'm drived too soft.
Dispraising myself as I always did,
If I feel better and dumb
For me pain means pleasure.
Before I put an end to all of this,
I spit my grief in front of me
I spit my grief.
We slept the sleep
Of the dead.
I'm not wishful
Just shaken.
Sitted on my chair in my hideout
Having a lot to point out
And think about.
Got the weapon of the success in a hand.
I do not take this as a remedy,
But a lost game.
Despicable poor me
Consumed by the act,
I do not want to serve
All the people I misprise.
Dispraised in the end
By all means.
Spit my grief in front of me,
spit my grief.
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