| I am a moment slowly dying
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| Soon I will only cross your mind from time to time
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| I’ll be the patterns in your seething cracks
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| As you resist another glass of wine
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| I am a solitary sentence
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| I shed on poetry and prose everybody knows
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| I have no marvelous inflection
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| Just random letters grouped in lines and rows
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| And here I’m waiting for the Lord up above
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| To grind my bones
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| Love, I’m waiting for the Lord up above
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| To grind my bones
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| Now as the walls around us crumble
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| Watch all the idiots and hypocrites rebel
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| You are two dashes and a number
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| And all of your complaining couldn’t save you from yourselves
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| And here I’m waiting for the Lord up above
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| To grind my bones
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| While you’re praying to the ghost in your blood
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| To save your souls
|
| And here I’m waiting for the Lord up above
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| To grind my bones
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| Love, I’m waiting for the Lord up above
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| To grind my bones
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| Luckily I’m not alone
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| There’s many here around me
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| In every fist, there is a stone that’s set to cast
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| Once upon a time
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| Oh I was lost and nothing found me
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| You better know that when I go
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| I’m going fast
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| I’m waiting for the Lord up above
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| To guide me home
|
| While you’re praying to the ghost in your blood
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| To save your soul
|
| And here I’m waiting for the Lord up above
|
| To grind my bones
|
| Love, I’m waiting for the Lord up above
|
| To grind my bones |