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Paper Posesses Your Soul

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Paper Kings graced in monogamy
Temple eroded by the man whose breath reeked of Ale
As he defines his creator, pockets painted in Celadon
This is the Body
And this the Blood

Casted behind Golden urns holding secrets hushed between the alters
Son of a preacher and son of a smoker
His sisters keeper

Chronicles of dirty sidewalks
Scuffed by the elite gamblers
Here lies mankind under the Paper Kings



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