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lyrics

Tension. You wear the silent grimace of paranoia. The conversation is carved into your face. Tense. Grave. Suspicious. Your tired conscience is frozen with hate and fear. Talk to no one. The enemy's always listening. Tense. Grave. Suspicious. Talk to no one. Now you've realized (that) you are alone. Trust is a fantasy. You are alone. They are out to get you.

credits

from Dead Language LP, track released 16 June 2011

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