She spoke to the croud
promising wisdom
justice and pride

She addressed the ones
weak of spirit
longing for lust

I don´t think I´ll last
I won´t survive across the oceans of mistrust

She, dressing in black
fake of a widow
ready to strike

I don´t think I´ll last
I won´t survive across the oceans of mistrust

I DON´T THINK I´LL LAST
I DON´T THINK I TRUST

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