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Questioning my legacy
as I traverse this hedonistic wasteland.
When I'm gone, will my loved ones tell my story,
or be grateful that its come to an end.
Come to an end.
How did I end up here, this hedonistic wasteland.
How did I end up here, this hedonistic wasteland
My only property is no man's land.
So I stake my claim on every single grain of sand.
That slides the hour glass of time.
But as time slips though my fingers I find no peace of mind.
How did I end up here, this hedonistic wasteland.
this hedonistic wasteland.
When I'm gone, will my loved ones tell my story,
or be grateful that its come to an end.
When I'm gone, will my loved ones tell my story,
or be grateful that its come to an end.
When I'm gone, will my loved ones tell my story,
or be grateful that its come to an end.
How did I end up here, this hedonistic wasteland.
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