"Why so soft, O' my brothers... So pliend and yelding... how can you one day triumph with me..." Rejoice in sweet submission of murder, of conceit How can you ever triumph with me?!?! I'd rather be wretced and broken Than join into your fraudulent joy I'd rather leave my will unspoken Than stain it in your sick vaudeville
Petrified spirits, oblivion of past Vulnerable whisper, cheap kiss for a second
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