Sickness
Conscious Rot
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We're tired of life and death
We're sick of sweet tongues
We want to retch up
Melancholia has took hold of us
Not knowing what's the existence
We're feigning very clever
We don't see as the fire
Nears to our paper world
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We're retched up from the sermons
Already used to these drugs
Our souls have dried up
We are living corpses
We want to die
We want to die
Let us die easy
Take our misery off
Tke off our fright
And let us die for ages...