Nutshell - Adema

We chase misprinted lies,
We face the path of time
And yet I fight, and yet I fight
This battle all alone
With no one to cry to
No place to call home

My gift of self is raped
My privacy is raked
And yet I find, and yet I find
Repeating in my head
If I can't be my own...
I'd feel better dead...

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