| God bless the chaos, I’m ready to go
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| Made my provisions written my notes
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| Too bad that folks remain on the earth
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| To see me deny no to renew my birth
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| And even my swallow my sweet one of all
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| Will be angry and bitter and briefly withdraw
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| For I’ve done much protecting and hiding of hardness
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| The awful emotion I never could bear
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| I was always afraid to reveal what I’m knowing
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| Like I have a particular kind of thing growing
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| Indifference, a bosom ally to despair
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| Soaks itself in to the skin and the hair
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| I keep all my cards at my chest without playing
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| The ones that I knew I was all this time saving
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| And rarely refered to it rarely gave clues
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| That I had the deep sickness I tried not to choose
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| That I had here inside of me a key to self-knowing
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| So base and respected neglected and flowing
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| Perversion and what might be called paranoia
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| Description defies though the concurrent Joya
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| And every corpuscle and each fold and wrinkle
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| Subknuckels, perception of what’s within my vision
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| And hearing distorting and feeling is lying
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| But it never succeeds to prevent me from trying |