| Dead
|
| Forgot how long it’s been
|
| A dusty trunk where you can find your junk ruined
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| I’m already dead
|
| Alarm clock in my head, that’s just who I am
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| A broken dial you watch when you’re sleeping in
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| Torn up beyond repair, I’m laid out threadbare
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| I’m wash-stained clothes that’s filled with holes
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| That can’t be sewn, my thoughts are rocks upstairs
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| Bones are just mortar for my organs
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| 'Cause I’m already
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| «Instrumental break.»
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| «With your eyes open, or your eyes closed
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| Take a moment to connect with where you are.
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| Feel your feet on the ground without looking at anything at all.
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| Just listen. Rest with a sense of hearing.
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| Experience the show of sound that is happening around you right now
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| Life in stereo.
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| Allow the instruments into your globe of sound.
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| And when the next part comes along, let it be there.
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| Without engaging, just listening to the sounds
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| And wish them well as they pass on through.»
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| Dead
|
| My blood’s all filled with lead
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| A crooked leaky cup to keep your pencils in
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| I’m already dead
|
| A landfill here I said, really got no place
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| I’m just some waste compressed
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| I’m already dead |