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Depression Session; Inability for Expression
Woe, woe, woe – woe is my foeCreature from hell, down from bellow Yo, yo, yo – yo I’ve fallen lowUp and down, the string of sorrow No, no, no – no I cannot growThere is so much more that I doth not know I want to run and run and never look backTurn the
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Willful; Wall Fall
Huge stress, as tallAs a penitentiary wallConcrete and thickHigh and slickAgainst all odds, I climbIt’s only a matter of timeThere’s wire on topAnd as it shreds my topI fall back downAnd land with a frownNow I’m filled with sorrowFuck it, guess I’ll try again tomorrow
