For there's no mask
without the purple blame.
which cuddles into soft erosion,
a wise man whispered in the morning,
in an oblivious, but yet soared motion.
without the purple blame.
which cuddles into soft erosion,
a wise man whispered in the morning,
in an oblivious, but yet soared motion.
I looked around me.
And at myself.
And realized the stage I'm on.
'cause there's no mirror and no stones.
But only masks to look upon.
I searched for answers
and I was told:
"Despair not at their heavy tone,
and keep your mask forever on".
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