| Morgan is sick to his stomach
|
| The ulcers have spread
|
| Bedridden, yet ceaselessly waking
|
| He rambles, he often forgets things
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| Perilous and exhausted
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| A shivering wire in the wind
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| Victor’s not clean, not been himself lately
|
| A payment’s been missed
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| And his kidneys have kept him from writing
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| Fixated, he’s constantly fighting
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| A catalogue of injustice
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| The hints of a song disappearing
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| In crimson pools
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| Joseph’s got tumours from stress and Eliza
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| Is not eating well
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| Mel’s trying; |
| Jon’s better, but h still cannot work
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| The world conspires to kill us
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| The horror of ndless folly
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| Tracing a line on our bodies |