Inkcoma - Withered | Текст песни

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• Inkcoma
• Withered

I"m tired of my thoughts
Withered dreams in bloom

It"s not my fault
That we"ve become strangers
What"s left of us —
A black stain of sun


We are always silent
Ugly beauty of decay

It"s not my fault
That we"ve become strangers
What"s left of us —
A black stain of sun

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