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You may play me out and have the media cover me up and show me as a lie.but this kind of rage and heartache can never be covered up with all the bloodshed flowing in the street, and many not understanding why
  The hill of dirt is a volcano of small spackles of red lava, The sting is a fresh memory of all who have experienced the burn, The pain is still fresh The bitter anger still prominent.
I let the shadows speak I let the mind grow But never let it be weak, To discover the things I need to know.   A beginning of a moment must come to an end The end of a moment must come to a beginning.
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