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By sick fate we are born |
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They should have used condoms |
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Everything is being blamed on us |
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Mistakes, their fuck-ups |
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Weight of the world on shoulders |
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Mentally so close to breakdown |
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Life tends to become distorted |
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When everything is shit except piss |
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Suicide is not a solution |
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But it remains an excellent option |
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Perhaps the time is ripe to go |
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Time to harvest what we have sown |
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From wet womb we are torn |
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Thrown in their nightmare world |
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Year after year being pushed too far |
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Till we cross the final line |
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Suicide is not a solution |
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But it remains an excellent option |
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Perhaps the time is ripe to go |
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Time to harvest what we have sown |
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Rotten seeds have now grown up |
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Separate them from the good ones |
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May all deathwishes come now true |
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And conclude that: |
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B.16.15.18.21.24.25!!! |