اگزیستانسیال
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This Place Is Gonna Fall
The Cigarettes
when nothing makes sense and it feels like the end of everything you once believe in. there's a hole in your heart, and a pain in your chest, and it feels like there is nothing left. i've been there so many times i can say, it will end someday.
you gotta keep holding on till it's gone, cause this day
will come.
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اگزیستانسیال
The Cigarettes – This Place Is Gonna Fall
you consider all the choices, all the people you met. the ones you love, the ones you'll never forget. even those you wish you never had met, even those you gotta come to accept. it was written somewhere.
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اگزیستانسیال
The Cigarettes – This Place Is Gonna Fall
3:20 this place is gonna fall, all soon will disappear, why do you have to be so mean
to anyone in here?
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"what are you gonna do for the rest of your life?" try not to end it quickly i guess?
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i wish i could die 11780 times instead.
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Marrow
Mascara
i wear the wounds of my father like shadows stitched to the bone, they whisper through the silence in a language all their own.
i wear the wounds of
my father, and they
surface back.
اگزیستانسیال
Mascara – Marrow
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اگزیستانسیال
Mascara – Marrow
in the quiet of the evening when the moon begins to rise, i'm tracing all these hidden bruises in the corners of my eyes.
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اگزیستانسیال
Mascara – Marrow
i wear these wounds their all in silence, but they hum a mournful tune. in the depths of my own darkness, beneath the unforgiving moon.
اگزیستانسیال
Mascara – Marrow
i wear the wounds of my mother, in the tears she never shed. they bloom like ghostly flowers in the garden of the dead.
اگزیستانسیال
Mascara – Marrow
3:30 i wear those wounds like shadows stitched to the bone.
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never let a bad day distract you from the fact that it gets even worse.
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in my بزنن تموم شیم راحت شیم era.
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The Style Is Death
Forever Grey
under the cold of tears, she'll decay and be warm. the style is death; a white rose in a morphine dream, a joke to amuse life, goodbye into a snowstorm. while you shake the thoughts, memories of conversation.
اگزیستانسیال
Forever Grey – The Style Is Death
come back the line like eager sadness. a knife hollows them out. a thin skin of black letters.
اگزیستانسیال
Forever Grey – The Style Is Death
2:21 i make myself sick, born with thoughts of disappointment. hands out, palms dry.