You carry the loyalty of dogs
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so you shall be led to the slaughter as swim
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It all seemed so real in your whispers
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Adorned with the best of intentions, bleeding softly
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It's late and my ears can't listen
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and these is no one to list me to my feet
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But still i dream of you
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twisting and contouring beneath a barbage bag veil
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And this is how it ends, pretty and black as the soul
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Just for one split instant i want to be the lucky one
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Not to have the pleasure of tasting the salt of tears when we kiss
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-----------------
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The Year Of The Swine
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Converge |