Originaltext
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Without a purpose, without a sound
To bask in regard of the place I'm allowed to call my destined conclusion
I have it all when I'm wrong
Rust and blood paint the portrait you wrought
Life as dirt
I have it all when I am wrong
Pariah, you'll cry out
A fire to die out
A war behind the flesh and bone to salve the sight of absent hopes
A prayer rings throughout these halls and maims promise of healing
