Scorpion Deathlock

The Devil Wears Prada

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    Distance decreases as if time is a dying cockroach.
    Plagues enclose.
    Sitting upon this wooden bench, I am helpless to
    billions of bullets.
    In this moment I am helpless.
    Why is it so difficult to see ourselves?
    No poem I've wrote, Nor song I have sung, can halt the
    army of wrath.
    Numbers Numbers Numbers Numbers.
    In this moment I am helpless.
    Serpents will transform into mice only to drown in the
    deepest red.
    I've always expresses my thoughts in colors, but we
    remain blind.
    Numbers Numbers Numbers Numbers

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    Song details

    Composition: Mike Hranica

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