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Sun-less
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Funeral For A Friend
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Broken hands, so sans soleil It lights my way through these empty streets at night. Dragging heels, the cold air stabs me like a needle running with this thread Scissors cut me dead and gone living like the blade I carry I never thought of you living all alone, scissors cut me dead I never felt like anyone could ever be so far from home The day begins when the music ends its days like these that I wish I were somewhere else. And I can't forget my own name replace it with a voice that carries on.
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Ton pseudo sera publié. Laisses les champs vide pour rester anonyme.
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