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Sickness

par Fiction Plane

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Do I feel love?
Oh boy do I feel love

I´m lonely
And the worst of all
With vanity, a coward

Do I fear love?
Oh boy do I fear love

I´m lonely
And the worst of all
With vanity, a coward

Always falling into sickness
In this life there´s no time
No time to rest
Always falling into sickness

Sat inside a tiny church
Fashioned out of local birch
The priest chose psalms and let us pray
She lay still until this day
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