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Pantera » 10's |
My skin is cold, transfusion with somebody morose and Old, drop into fruitless dying It was tempting and bared, the whoring angel rising Now burning prayers, my silent time of losing
Chorus: My foes - they can't destroy my body Colliding slow, like life itself
Long for the blur, we cannot dry much longer Cement to dirt, disgusted with my cheapness
Chorus
Reaching down, staring up (at the forgiver)
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