When I went past the street of skepticism,
Leaving the lonesome pride behind that garbage of hopes,
I could sense the rushing blood inside me.
I did think of a heart attack, beyond the clasp of the age;
Glad to be alive among the mortals at the Cape of Good Hope.
Leaving the lonesome pride behind that garbage of hopes,
I could sense the rushing blood inside me.
I did think of a heart attack, beyond the clasp of the age;
Glad to be alive among the mortals at the Cape of Good Hope.
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