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Napalm Death — Purist Realist

Purist-realist manipulates
Purist-realist segregates
Purist-realist — on their own terms
Purist-realist — you never learn
Inner loathing — the mounting hate
Hundred fights — a thousand regrets
Sacrifice — you wear me like a second skin
Dwelling on a scene of bitter lore
Harping on some forgotten war
The shadow former self
Two-faced preacher — denied yourself
Purist-realist — a rotting state of grace
Cannot be me
Cannot see the once-treasured
Depleting life it shows in
Your weakness, impotence
Inability to have spoken
Summarizing that teasing
That non-restricted feeling set in a moment
In dealing
Return to the source of regret

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