I keep fighting against God in a dirty, cruel place. My left arm was taken away and my wings have been torn. I keep fighting against God in a dirty, cruel place. My right arm is full of scars, and I devoted all. Why am I here? In this dark world and stagnant. The pain of this wound irrational. I constantly torture. I continue to carve the concept of loss. In these emotions that are going. Continue to count all those questions. To which I have been working during the repetition. I keep fighting against God in a dirty, cruel place. My left arm was taken away and my wings have been torn. I keep fighting against God in a dirty, cruel place. My right arm is full of scars, and I devoted all. Why I'm fighting in this world?. Who is bent to the breaking point. The throb of this nasty wound. I constantly torture. Continue to recognize the abandonment of these thoughts. In phase necrosis. Continue to count all those questions. To which I have been working during the repetition. I keep fighting against God in a dirty, cruel place. My left arm was taken away and my wings have been torn. I keep fighting against God in a dirty, cruel place. My right arm is full of scars and I have devoted everything.