The Hangman Tree - Act One
The Mist
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Real wings
Forever goodbye to my wings made of wax
Where do I go now I'm not part of the game anymore?
The hipocritical tears of the losers won't sow seeds in my ground
The ground I belong now
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My soul is free
There's no more pain
There are just questions
Questions
Fucking questions
Where do I go now I'm not part of the game anymore?