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I wake up in the field, overlooking the sea. The city of man across it, and the sun is swallowing me. What has become of this beautiful world in this dream, oceans of blood from a melting messiah. Crossing my arms and waiting to die. The mountains open their mouths, draining the last breath of time. Leaders of men die lying, killing again. What has become of this beautiful world in this dream, oceans of blood from a melting messiah. Crossing my arms and waiting to die. From Letras Mania