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Cannot find the difference between a friend

and your hurting skull

You are longing for help, but you abandon all

Your tears are nothing compared to the river

this world is nothing compared to us

The best part about dying is the process

The best part about living is the break

The best part about fire is the smoke

in which we hide and run away

This world is nothing compared to us

Open fire, open lungs

Heavy bricks and narrow bones

Broken figures, diluted blood

Life is precious when it rots

This world is nothing compared to us