What Goes Around by Saxon
Conscroled
You play with lies and suffocate everyone you know.
Memories cannot touch you and you've sold away your soul.
So easy to live that way let your conscience slip away.
In such a rush to play that game.
Nothing else will feel the same.
(Chorus)
What goes round.
What goes round.
What goes round.
Conscroled.
Don't look back there's nothing there but traces of all pain.
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