Testo originale
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Blessed by verdicts hand,
my God does it make sense?
This is the way that I see you.
This is the way that we all try.
This is the last time the knuckle shapes my alibi.
From fragile ones you hold in worth.
The value in a closed hand. knuckle shaped alibi.
To recall the times it's justified.
The value in a closed hand.
In every time it's justified.
I wish I knew you.
