My dreams ink printed on white paper, no one wants to hear, read, sing.
Beside these buried coffins I'm alone, alone like all of them and I'm running
And I'm keeping a secret they all want to know, beside these buried coffins I'm alone,
Alone like all of them, and I'm running somewhere I'm leaving this hell,
I can't be stuck in here any longer, someone better pull me out
I think I committed a crime, for a day or two and I thank god I committed a crime..
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