The nails are dug in hard
Like the walls around my head For the fear in my reflection
A wry grin I bear
Prayer See the man of solitude
With weary eyes, with head in hands To the fear in his reflection
A wry grin he bears
And to the fear in his religion
A wry grin he bears
While he speaks prayers.
האתר פועל ברישיון אקו"ם
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