Texty písní Minsk Out Of A Center Which Is Neither Dead Nor Alive Waging War On The Forevers

Waging War On The Forevers

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Falling for feeling.
Time stops our hearts again.
Visceral emanations break bread with remember-whens and has-beens.
The nows and the laters wage war on the forevers.
Gladly bound to an infinite end.
Now corridors echo with these tongue twisting oaths.
Proclaiming squalor rather than valor.
We will not be placated again
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