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Your castles turn to rubble |
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Like the ruins of your mind |
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There's little bloody pieces |
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That wolves have left behind |
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The stones beneath your feet |
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Have grown diseased, and so have you |
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You're looking for salvation |
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But oblivion is due |
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The ugliness of man will be a twisted epitaph |
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The hells have been created with a sick and greedy laugh |
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There lies the dust of ages, mixed with human flesh |
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The dark remains are blown away by winds of nothingness |
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Just look six feet downward |
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And you'll find the final key |
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And the black winds of oblivion |
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Will return you to the sea |