Inside
Inside
I die a little every day
With each waking moment
Every thought becomes the knife
The edge that slashes at my soul
Inside
I die a little every day
No end in sight
The bubonic plague would have been a mercy
This shit hurts more I think
I die a little every day
With each waking moment
Every thought becomes the knife
The edge that slashes at my soul
Inside
I die a little every day
No end in sight
The bubonic plague would have been a mercy
This shit hurts more I think
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