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the rise of the female failure
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and fall
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and fall
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falling for you

Die Hand, die mich führt
Der Prozess, ein Erklärungsversuch

On the Hillside
made of ticky tacky
on the Hillside
all the same

and the hand that guides me
in the language of the studios
and the experience in space
seems the same

I am open
I am looking
and sure thing I am listening
all the same
with a hand that guides me

I am standing on a podestile
in a perfectly white cube
I am guided by the hand that gives
and I feel, I am right

I go well behind couches
on immaculately painted wallspace
I am versatile
with a fradulent smile
I faked it until the day you died.