V.I.P.S. - Frankness Of The Pressthroated Person, Who Stays On The Stairs At 5 P.M. Letras

It's my arm and it's my beauteful eye My compassion and my running sing On and on I hear the noise inside me I think to keep it or not to keep I was born with a beast,with a hole. Soul is hole

Enemy lives by my body He steals my happiness I don't belong to me

Blackness... Whiteness Black pale on the fate Blister... Fortune... Shadow... Pickles... Wind. Take him away from me

Enemy lives by my body He steals my happiness I don't belong to me

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