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Buring From Inside |
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Bauhaus |
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23 |
Running without aim
Through the razor weeds
That only reach my knees
And when I'm lying in the grey sleep
I don't know how to walk the boards
I open my eyes, and look at the floor
And now I don't see you anymore
There is no choice, we make the point
To counteract a threatening hand
Close my hold
As we near the atmosphere
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