Dead march
Nauthisuruz
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The front of church is the lid of coffin
You're wearing a cross up on your chest
You are nothing, you're already dead
Your home is your hole, your room is a grave
You're buried alive by the one who must save
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All those who believe in heaven and other shit
This is your dead march
All you life is the big god's joke
You're a pawn when I'm a queen
My mind consist of
The scenes you have never seen