sábado, 21 de abril de 2012

NUTSHELL

 

 

Nutshell

We chase misprinted lies
We face the path of time
And yet I fight, and yet I fight
This battle all alone
No one to cry to, no place to call home

My gift of self is raped
My privacy is raped
And yet I find, and yet I find
Repeating in my head
If I can't be my own, I'd feel better dead

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