The whites in your eyes, The dim mirror hides. So close, out of shot; So much, not a lot. Let's talk about this, Little fox, my nemesis. The thief is out there. The thief is in here. Tell me, who are you? I know, already knew. Saw through cheap disguise; The soul in your eyes... Is gone, do you miss it? But mine, you won't get it. But mine, it's well kept. But mine, it's well kept. (My soul is well kept.)
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