Outlast
ward c 43
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I've got a number on my bracelet.
I've got a name on a paper.
Belittle my value on the account of avarice.
And I am thought to be patient.
It's an injection in my discontent arm.
I fall with the capital and discover fainted swastikas.
I'm not going to be patient anymore, not going to suppress feelings.
See things for what they are