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The Circle Grows - text

Father and Son,
Like a bullet to a gun
Born to blood,
In the scars of love
Cheating the cold grave with power and rage

Caught in a shadow of the crows
Those black dressed figures in a row
One mans pain
Anothers gain
The circle grows

Secrets and lies,
The sharks in crime,
Brought to the edge
But always crossing the line
Faces in doorways
Beckon you in

One way in ,
No way out
Closer to danger
Away from the crowds
So silent and still
He goes for the kill

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