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cold is the hand of death
when she is exorting you
to follow her in the deepest foundations of the revolt

i is the end
of a deadly world
my friend you will see
one drowsy life at her last breath

in her torment death grasps the spine of life
breaking of her icy fingers
the bones of self respect... respect... respect

cold is the hand of death
when she do the work for you

in front of the glance of the warder�s surrender

suicide the end
i want this end
she gives her hands
and i is the end

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