untitled part 5

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Transførm my sins intø sørrøws
Transfer yøur bløød frøm my hands tø my lips and hush me
I'd like tø døubt that my prayers were received by the prejudiced kind
But fate has drilled a høle intø my back, revealing løve, the highlight øf my depressiøn
The døwnfall øf my heart
My relapses will echø thrøugh my brøken skin, as my whispers slide away frøm my paralyzed tøngue, invøluntarily
Søme stars are fated tø a descent frøm gløry, døwn tø frantic infamy
Øthers are stereøtyped tø emøtiønless success
I, persønally, am imprisøned between the dual categøries
And in this feeling øf discømført, I yearn tø be swindled by warm winds that prømise me the future
Yøu knøw, I never find it tø be an easy task when I'm casually pressured tø  cønclude these restless bøuts, prøperly
But in this particular case, I will bring myself tø speak øf øne last thing, in ørder tø finalize øur uncensøred dispute
And that is, tø say this: I truly dø løve yøu, past løve øf mine
And I'm sørry

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