Haven't I heard this before? Your moves are straight out
Fingers crossed on failure
We've become obsessed with our own demise
Snapshots
There's no need to put a price on my head
A waking hell of servitude, I'd rather put a fork
When you define yourself by only one thing, that's a
This chorus will never sound again
Buried in silence
Extinguished like memories
Shudder upon release
Another chapter has passed
And this shift has become
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