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letra de lost grip - ken mode

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i can’t maintain composure
we deserve this
numbed by the glare we deserve this
i don’t believe that you mean well
blacked out, bloated vacant, expired
all hail unending growth, all hail my wealth
i’ll do anything for money
this similar unveiled torture
this extinction moment a great focus
then erased
but it really is all about you anyway
this is a dying land, and we don’t care
we never did
suppressing years old tears
with each gasp of wind
so much life, and all we bring is rot
i don’t believe that you mean well
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