| You sit collapsed as an empty mind
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| last bytes dissolved into your last breath and the droning sound of hollow
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| replaces pulse with ache.
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| It is lonely here, living in the alarm and the awakening where the dream
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| precipitates madness as its encore.
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| You are only half here, the other half erased to be brushed from the paper by
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| the same hand that fingers your egg like a fresh scab until you bleed a river
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| of ridicules.
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| I see now it’s not the vision that’s attraction, you peddle your pieces to a
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| man called compromise for a place in the greater scheme until the only thing
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| left standing is the place you once stood. |
| You have just reduced yourself from
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| static to dead air droning.
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| Or it could be the other way-take the wire to the other side of this metal sky
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| and you will see these stars are just projections. |
| This is not real,
|
| which means their thunder is merely a threat. |
| Do you want to know the truth?
|
| They need you. |
| They are mechanical, maniacal, derived, you couldn’t drown in
|
| their gene pool if you tried, but they’re all made up in disguise,
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| selling the very thing they most want but cannot posess-you.
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| And magic is the key to their success as simple sleight of hand steals your
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| autonomy leaving you believing you are in control. |
| Tell me, do you trust your
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| judgement?
|
| My friend, your its been tripped.
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| Welcome to Metropolis… |