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  • It comes about when there is a hand,
    And I agree to reach
    Only to cringe in agony
    When it squeezes far too tight,
    Remembering the battle cry
    Heard long before the fight,
    But remembering to feel the hairs
    Stand up on my neck and back
    Because it feels good to know
    I'll die alive if you attack
    And that I’ve misplaced all the pleasure
    And the pain in this strange war,
    I'd sell my soul or lack thereof
    If you wished to kill me more.

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