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Psychotic Waltz A Social Grace Halo Of Thorns whispered alone the song of an angel echoes of a fallen tear frayed by the wind a weed by a willow withered and yellow she lays her head to die lays to die reading the script of the play that we lead christ I'd die again o' if I could save you now you knew this had to come spare me the sacrilege this play had brought upon us lay in my dying hour it feels like I'm falling, falling flying, tripping this crown of kings this bloody halo bleeds me dry hear me cry as in the script of the play that we lead so I rise again much stronger than before a child sacrifice let me lay down this bloody cross we've dragged so far behind us and close this theatre now weaping over this crooked cross lying face down in the blood of saints just write me out of this play |
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