No comfort in salvation
Under threat of eternal damnation
No solace in sacred hearts,
When tones of perdition are bound to the art
Under threat of eternal damnation
No solace in sacred hearts,
When tones of perdition are bound to the art
Only what we think we know
Memories are amputees from the mind's wars
Scratch past their surface and nothing remains
Ideas that held meaning in olden days
Maybe so, maybe no...
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