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I'm in a rusty old wooden house
surrounded by oaks with no leaves in the dark
the moon touches me with its light
my clothes soaked in red, the last memory of home
and the blade in my hand, reminds me i have no place to go
surrounded by oaks with no leaves in the dark
the moon touches me with its light
my clothes soaked in red, the last memory of home
and the blade in my hand, reminds me i have no place to go