Provenance of hate
Octavia sperati
To spectate your inferiority
What use are you to me
What use are you to me
And your presence is passing me by
All the time
It's infesting me and I eliminate it
By offering to the wind
Unsuccessful in your attempt
To outshine my brilliant superiority
And I will paint your shadow red all over
With my spirit I enter you
What use are you to me
It's infesting me and I eliminate it all the time
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