Текст (слова) песни: V.i.p.s. - Frankness of the pressthroated person...
It`s my arm and it`s my beauteful eye My compassion and my running sing On and on I hear the noise inside me I think to keep it or not to keep I was born with a beast, with a hole. Soul is hole
Enemy lives by my body He steals my happiness I don`t belong to me
Blackness... Whiteness Black pale on the fate Blister... Fortune... Shadow... Pickles... Wind. Take him away from me
Enemy lives by my body He steals my happiness I don`t belong to me
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