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come to send, not condescend
transcendental consequence
is to transcend where we are
who are we? who we are
trampled moss on your souls
changes all you´re a part
seen it all, not at all
can´t defend fucked up man
take me a for a ride before we leave...
circumstance, clapping hands
driving winds, happenstance
off the track, in the mud
that´s the moss in the aforementioned verse
just a little time, before we leave...
stop light plays its part
so i would say you´ve got a part
what´s your part? who you are
you are who, who you are