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Song title:
Inspection 12 - Vanity Fair
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216.73.216.188
Let me take you to where time stands still Everything you say is a wasted line You can't get it through to make your point Subtracted time, distracted mind This isolation makes you feel so alone Like driving down an empty road One more victim of hate driven crime One more portrait on a wall A nameless face with a broken smile Washed up town that reeks denial Another broken home Another body in the road Someone's crying on the phone There's a razor on the floor And your wishing you were gone
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