Angercure

I come to dust

Angercure
Designed for pain
Designed for pain

Two years of trembling, two years of strain
Two years of minding for not scaring you
Cannot fuel your dead heart, cannot ask for a dole
Cannot state I am writing this perfectly sane

Designed for pain
Designed for pain
I will come to dust

The byways of bearing, the byways of calm
The byways of trying are falling apart
Cannot fake a retention, cannot follow the bourne
Cannot keep to the end glorifying our past

I will come for the pure pain
I will come as an oldened man at the end

Lulling deadly my vigilance
You’re womanly madly, hiding weapons in turn
Mining deeply my valiance
You’re already there, softly taking revenge

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