| The liquid is in your throat
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| For hopeless delight
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| After all you fell in love with death,
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| Life has aborted.
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| All you’ve had and all you became,
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| The night is calling, you pray forth.
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| The barren waste is your land
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| Your crops, they were sown to die
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| The skin is a mirror
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| The eyes hollow with ignorance
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| Health runs from your lips
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| Sucked in and safe in a world of sleep
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| All those years caring for a liar
|
| A benefit road that is winding higher
|
| You’re a moth too close to the fire
|
| You are stuck in a route of confusion
|
| Changing and waiting and seeking the truth of it all
|
| Fleeing your sorrows
|
| Pushing your spirit away
|
| Sick of the weakness of the psyche
|
| A whisper from the heart of evil luring them all into despair
|
| Resenting the goods of a savior
|
| And cries out
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| For the restless will also die
|
| A selection culled from the damned, drawing a lifeline of one
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| A friend died in your room and sought the birth of a follower
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| O brother, you are a killer and you target yourself
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| I wish you’d never come back for us to see the beckoning end
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| And the pride of a mother brought flaws in a mother’s son
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| And the love from a father was used by a father’s son
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| Overheard us talking in a smoke of lost hope
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| The language of a parting so clear and so true
|
| Overheard us talking |