Nobody believes you.
The marble wall is highly covered in dirt
A pain like I have been beaten up won’t release me
Imperfection peeked through in large quantity
Expression swallowed in perfection
I who sings black again. I who dyes black again.
Insult that smashed my head many times
Let’s send a gallows in the last scene which you hope for.
Don’t hush up a mistake.
Take responsibility.
Your whereabouts which I can’t see yet, something I can’t know is that what you show off is only the surface
What sold off is forgery of thought
Without any uneasiness you approach again
Can you hear the counting song of pain, baby?
The president.
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