I’m not going down that road again. You will drown by your self again.
In your ocean of made up lies. Rising water slowly shuts your eyes.
The waves are coming in. They washing you away. They leaving you astray.
I’m not going down that road again. You will drown in the crimson rain.
A flooded soul, a cold embrace. Davy Jones?s locker till the end of days.
The waves are coming in. They washing you away. They leaving you astray.
The waves are coming in. They washing you away. They leaving you astray.
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