| The ground is giving way beneath me
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| Drooling braille Bibles onto the bedspread
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| I’m sick, despite what I tell myself
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| With my tailbone in my pocket
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| I’ll keep my heart just to stop it, sick
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| The white cross beckons me to the darkest precipice
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| Chiselling a crack into my smile, peeling the crust from my bile This room is a
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| fluorescent tomb
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| Light bulbs mimic the hyenas croon
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| And I can’t find a way to leave this cement cocoon
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| The ground is giving way beneath me
|
| Drooling braille Bibles onto the bedspread
|
| I’m sick, despite what I tell myself
|
| With my tailbone in my pocket
|
| I’ll keep my heart just to stop it, sick
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| White noise drills a hole in my head
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| And I can’t move with my skin stapled to this bed
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| An unholy union with the burning witches dust
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| Makes the sky vomit clouds and the clouds vomit rust
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| All these years, and I still can’t stand the smell of her
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| Cause you’re not in my arms
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| If I wake up will I remember you?
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| Cause it’s all that I can do
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| When I wake up will I remember you?
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| Cause it’s all that I can do
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| And all I can be is sorry
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| There’s no other way
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| When I wake up, I will remember you?
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| Cause it’s all that I can do |