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Alcohol, the artificial happiness Seems cheaper than the real thing Rooms spinning like depressing theme parks Pavements became pillows My mouth tastes like sour ash The start of the night never existed It always felt like it was about to end But time became a fairy tale Feeling indestructible to the world But a victim to yourself A Grenade that lost its pin Weapons became bottled up.
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Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 1:22 PM UTC
Bottled Up Weapon
Alcohol, the artificial happiness Seems cheaper than the real thing Rooms spinning like depressing theme parks Pavements became pillows My mouth tastes like sour ash The start of the night never existed It always felt like it was about to end But time became a fairy tale Feeling indestructible to the world But a victim to yourself A Grenade that lost its pin Weapons became bottled up.
Siththa
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Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 1:22 PM UTC
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