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We pray to the grave, nothingness and plague.
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All our blasphemies are only little prayers.
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Dead is the cradle of everything.
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How many times have I created to destroy?
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People souls - perennial loners. They're loners like stray stars.
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Dead is the travel of all our travels.
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There live Christ and Nero in our hearts.
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Be - fight - feel the pain - and love the wounds!