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Without own fate people scorching burns Turned to back trails the wrong visor waste most by terror Without the world come treat to would that borsch Scorned in withed of trots The wrong visor severed from all senses You're rein no reason Coming flame from twisting and chop the chosen Termed me you're be injection of bacon ways Save us! Don't make fights passing in that lies Filled brake ways you're nothing pulsate Save us! The wrong visor, common visor! From Letras Mania