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| Gathering Mandylion Eléanor underneath the mask you've buried yourself into it's coal-black i am tired of the gulping that you do every day a new face what if i unscrew your own identity wouldn't you guess there's nothing left of you? the quicksand of life drags us down into the circle one day. we might not catch you i feel sorry for what you try to do breaking others down. to try and to pursue your own selfish interests i am starting to get sick of you whatever happened ever since you left you make yourself and me look like fools |
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