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I grew up in a place, where there are no mountains, cities, or buildings Instead, every few nights I encountered killings Dead bodies in the middle of the road, rotten, ran over
     How many times a day do we trust,
To resist an opportunity in the midst of our days by the sunlight catching the inner core, it holds weakens the penetration of the mind, the many splitting of the selves, the gold no one can take
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