The knife cuts the warm flesh.
A cry, bloody cry.
An already long time routine.
Machines bring the daily noise.
A sound of thousand victims.
A sound of death.
There’s no one in the dark.
There’s no one in the dark.
Thousand litres of blood.
Running every day.
Thousand souls.
I won’t close, close my eyes.
I can see, I can see.
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