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2005 - David Zach We're still sowing in the finite fields we're so content to live under a curse we're still fabricating paradise with the thorns, with the flies and dirt hold out for the upgrade, man let go of your sinking sand this bent world's not the promised land this feeble frame's not meant to stand this is just the flesh it's just the blood it's really not, it's not that tough the bruised the fragile, cut up, scratched and scarred it's just the feeble - just the feeble stuff Aus Songtexte Mania