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Copyright Misty Dreams
The leaves of the trees fall
as the blood from my arms drips
and you call me morbid as I cry
you don't understand me?
Well, nor do I,
so we go on following our eternal circle
both of us separating ourself further,
because there's one difference...
I cope differently.
So, the leaves of the trees go on falling,
in time with the blood and the tears
and you call me morbid as I stand
you can't understand me?
Well, nor do I,
so we'll go on treading in our own paths
alienating ourselves
because of one little detail,
I cope differently.
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