Thinking it was strong
and tough to let the Call,
brake through this storm.

Then it's gone,
before the snow could fall, on our own.
I'm sure that I've become “The best”
for what I've done,
but it's hard
to let the sun brake through this dawn.
It is cold and autumn mourns.
Hard is to ignore that I was strong,
you know…
Hard is to ignore that I was wrong,
before.
All friends are gone,
there's letters to be drawn…
When I came home,
with things that I've become.

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