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Through Cement
need to cry, but the tears won't come,
too used to this, 22 and already numb,
need to be held, like hair by barrettes,
too many dark hallways, constructed from booze and cigarettes,
save me mystery, before by life i'm killed,
this person at best, and not even strong-willed,
ill-directed, sure sometimes but my hands i try to rinse,
just see me someone - brilliant white horse and charming prince...
