Album: Painted

Father, the race is on. Build us a place of filth and see the trails covered
with layers of death.
Let´s walk the long road out, bring up solutions now.
Mother. wash yourself.
You don´t want to stand out.
Such a sight to see tracing footprints we leave.
It makes no difference. See want we see.
It makes no difference. What´s come to be.

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