Deny me,
When I'm no longer of use.
Put me to sleep,
And wish for the morning save us.
Falling from grace.
On shelf every mask in neat row sit,
Care tear, which down, this day and fit?
Be it love or tragedy, tell me.
Or should I choose, this time.
Disappoint desires, I have,
Her wrath undone.
And she will deny me,
When I'm no longer of use.
Put me to sleep,
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