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| make a monument of your love shape the perfection of speed i am a train track uncovered with snow i have conceived the reality seed power of bullet is weaker than thought escape into colour follow the wind it's the dawn of the age of escapism should we change the slide? or simply turn and look to the other side? opium is the religion of the people let's descend deeper maybe we will rise when we have closed our eyes and when i've opened up my sinful thighs- it is too late tomorrow morning i'll be living out the price b |
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