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she lives like autumn
in perpetual decay
born in silence
solitude is an early grave
cast into the audience
of her very own life
she lives like autumn
in perpetual decay
grasping at the air around her
can't hold on to anything
she cries out in her sleep
she cries out in her sleep
floating above them now
she stumbles over herself
she lives like autumn
in perpetual decay
passing through the walls again
she can't find her way back down
her body wasting away again
her only chance to survive is drown
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