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All the doves that fly past my eyes, have a stickiness to their wings, in
the doorway of your demise I stand, encased in the whisper you taught me
HOW DOES IT FEEL? IT FEELS BLIND. HOW DOES IT FEEL? WELL, IT FEELS BLIND.
WHAT HAVE YOU TAIGHT ME? NOTHING. LOOK WHAT YOU'VE TAUGHT ME ,