Lyrics
The darkness covers the unsented path, the white wall proves the color of your act. The teachers have gone and the letters have followed, the decline of certainty is at hand. There are books burning, turning to ashes in his mind, a level of knowledge which was lost, since was nine. Tick tock the clock on the mock on the screen of the dying breed, from which we give these humans Petty humans as feed. Tick tock the ashes grow, and from all those peices one is sowed, from the beggining, and to the end, those peices as a whole must be sent..... .....Spiraling Downwards.
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