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The Cell (Remove filter)

Chlorine

Blankets Turn To Sand, You’re In A White Dress.
So Pale, Your Beauty’s Like The Dead.
But Is The Water Always Red?

Chlorine And Rust In My Lungs
Like A Metal Egypt To Be Shunned.
Glancing Off Of The Ceiling, We Listen To Her Cry
When She’s Disappeared Again Into All Her Dreams.
And All We Do Is Tune In While You’ve Become Part Of The Meek.
The Dolls And Lights Underwater.
Dolls And Ligh...

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Cannibal JonesThe Cell

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