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Description
My soul it keeps complaining,
‘cause in my brain it’s raining
every drop is an idea
a thought I hope to be a
good reason to be alive
or an answer to give me drive
but I want, to stop the storm,
It’s too much, I’m much too worn

my head’s too small to see it
my mind, it won’t believe it
and now I’m gone again
I just want to see the end.
the lesson of today
will disappear without a trace
I’ve left them all outside
now I’m alone, so let me die.