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 Sep 2015 sol
Bill murray
Filthy, ******,
Who likes nutty buddy's?
Nutty bar you *****.
Stop letting them tear you down
No need to have depression when they’re moving on in this life
Strive to prove them wrong about the things they say
Don’t let anyone get in your way of making it life
Don’t destroy your beautiful body anymore
The best revenge to dish out is to show society wrong
So it’s time to break the cycle

Maybe it’s time to break the cycle of self-harm
It’s time to break the cycle of suicide
It’s time to change how they think of us

The suffering that we’ve been through has made us stronger
No longer will we let anyone them tear us down
Because I’ve seen the light at the end of the tunnel
Fight the silence, break the cycle of isolation
Speak up and be proud of who you are
No need to cry anymore
Cause no longer will we be torn apart by despair

Maybe it’s time to break the cycle of self-harm
It’s time to break the cycle of suicide
It’s time to change how they think of us

Let’s change the channel on how they look upon us
By far they have watched us fall but they’ll watch us rise
We are no longer your slaves
HEYUH!!!

Maybe it’s time to break the cycle of self-harm
It’s time to break the cycle of suicide
It’s time to change how they think of us
 Sep 2015 sol
Mallow
Always Hostile
 Sep 2015 sol
Mallow
We conquer foul play caused by past discrepancies
Somewhere along the chart, hearts sink into the sand
Scars caused by burned skin never change their shape
Even when nursed back to health, they still hold the same print.
The pleasure that you speak of is too far in the distance,
All moves are read with a cautious eye
Feelings cannot be talked off the overhanging ledge
The fire of pain cannot be put out inside.

Roads do not just lay out paths before us,
They form partings of what was once a unified land.
Promised deliveries are only distractions
So the forbidden can again be secretly admired.
Why does the bond have to be evolved?
Why does it have to mean coexist as the separate?
We all live lives so solitary and curious
Where there is always a bit left on the side.

Hopeless and heartless is what we are left with
The more we go on the less we can hold onto in pride.
Call the delivery man for food, love and friendship
When we are done we tell him to go on and drive.
All feels like an existence in a video game
Where all the lights are made to be blinding
Same pages may exist but
How they are read is never beloved again.
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