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Days smelling like blood
It seems like never ends
Your defeat will come
And your flesh will prove the pain
Your victory was an anomaly
You'll die slowly
It's a matter of time before
Your carcass meets the ground
Falling down into disgrace
Your leader will fall
Tears tearing your face
Weighing guilt and remorse
For all the wrond done
May you rot until you're forgotten
A well of shake silently consumes
Your fucking name
And your image will never be
Remembered next to victory
