मूल बोल
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Alone at last, together in a photograph
Our eyes are always open
Devoted to perfection, through silence.
What am I supposed to do?
Should I sit, and wait for you?
Listen to me screaming more
This story is only old to those that have no mold
The truth can be bought or sold
But what are we buying?
Nothing but silence.
Fold the corners, break the silence
