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  • So tired of this straight line, and everywhere you turn
    There's vultures and thieves at your back
    The storm keeps on twisting, you keep on building the lies
    That you make up for all that you lack.
    It don't make no difference, escaping one last time
    It's easier to believe
    In this sweet madness, oh this glorious sadness
    That brings me to my knees.

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