Oh I am growing tired
Of allowing you to steal
Everything I have
You're making me feel
Like I was born to service you
But I am growing by the hour
You left us far behind
So we all discard our souls
And blaze through your skies
So unafraid to die
'Cause I was born to destroy you
And I am growing by the hour
And getting strong in every way
You led me on
The music that could occasionally be heard from that spacious manor no longer surprised anyone;
Every day, if not always at the same time, someone in there would play a western Cello for about half an hour.
The manor was large enough,
being the property of a man who earned his living as a private teacher for the children of rich parents; The neighbors wouldn't have heard it unless they happened to be in the right corner
of their Garden at the right time, and even then, only if they were listening closely enough.
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