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The Quick & the Dead

God can judge the quick & the dead
Read to break the chain, powers in my hands
When it's quiet the devil flies high inside
Can't see much in the dark
Unless it's fear or wanting 
Word is wind that passes by
Breath like you breath
Look like you look
Spoken word never comes back
Shadows move to a dark corner
See madness, then something takes it aside
Morning is dead, a day with the quick ...

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Feeling sorry for yourself

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