Octavia Sperati
provenance of hate
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To spectate your inferiority
What use are you to me
And your presence is passing me by
All the time
It's infesting me and I eliminate it
By offering to the wind
Unsuccessful in your attempt
To outshine my brilliant superiority
And I will paint your shadow red all over
With my spirit I enter you
What use are you to me
It's infesting me and I eliminate it all the time.