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In to the Core - text


They speak of death and disaster
Speak of apocalypse, then we're sold
I believe it's the very cancer, that consumes us growing cold
The godless people, that dwell inside of us
And victimized children crucified within their loss

Myself, my living hell
Always waiting for you
Yourself, your living hell
Sometimes surprises too

Behold the silver tears, shed by the priest that holds you dear
Through joy our lives should be, guess all we need is company
Sk yourself, maybe twice
What do you really want in your life?

Myself, my living hell...

Whenever you pray for the old
And harvest memories of long gone lives
In a glimpse you are sold, in your hunger for paradise
The godless people, deprived of all your trust
But the true mean deceiver, is deep inside
But we're not lost

Myself, my living hell...

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