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Sun of the Sleepless
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Grimme Pain
I bleed - the blade's been sharpened, The wounds have been cut deep, Whilst thou weavest thy carpet And lests the heavens weep.
Discouraged hearts thou makest, Bringest the wretches woe, And those that thou forsakest In thee have found a foe.
Tristesse consumes the lands - grey! Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com Thou paintest life on earth, And those thou hast consumed, pray: O give to winter birth!
Discouraged hearts thou makest, Bringest the wretches woe, And those that thou forsakest In thee have found a foe.
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