He won't change his battlefield, he's all alone, (in the eyes of)
He was shooting the same old guns again
Its growing on and on, to a monument
They won't stop the demons in his head (for the last)
What is left, two years ago from now
What is left, in the body where it's grown
He won't change his battlefield, he cannot turn,
He's fighting the same old enemies
There grows a monster, can't be beat,
Created by the progress heat (it's a shame)
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