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The Tremor

Nothing hurts like the truth,
a piece of perfidy, a deceitful behaviour.
Women's lures, deserted like an empty corpse,
an uneasy conscience.

Stigmatised in hell, he's puffed up with conceit
There will come a day of retribution
They're just lost dreams,
cursed to crawl between hypocrites and vain promises
My heart bleeds

[Chorus]:
The tremor of leaves in the breeze

You can't weigh up, where does the road lead,
at whose door should be the blame lie?
The lie lay heavy on this conscience

[Chorus]

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