Where is my real imaginary world? Empty spaces of the sunset Spaces of the lost hopes of the deprived of feelings faces The laughing devil is disappearin' in the clouds of smoke spiderweb Life is running 'way against the sad light of the day the left shreds in my hands Blood in the empty, forgotten tins cut off heads, strange creations of the nature The bulbs, black lights from under the vault acrid teste of blood in mouth I found oneself death in the room tangled hands like shoots of vine
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