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My Last Supper Day
October, 1993

Neither love, nor the passion
But a distant coldness has crept into the relations
Itís not new
Itís not old
The feel is there, I feel in the air
I inhale a part
And thereís a pang
That tears my heart apart

I want to shout
And say it aloud
I know I canít
And this feel will haunt.
It darkens my days and colors my nights
I turn in my bed
And then I wake.

The feeling will stay
Till the day
When I shall have my last supper
And a breath thatís the last
Cause the coldness canít be moved
Instead has turned me cold
The more I want to turn around
And put my thoughts behind the bars
The more I get caught.

The feel I had fought
Fought so far
More I canít
I shall wait and wait
And soon hope to cross the gate
When I shall leave
The relations that are turning cold

I know I shall be happy on the day
That will be my last day
And the last day of the cold feel
That has broken us apart
That made us far
And will end one day
That will be mast last supper day.

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