| I’ve been approaching the surface for a year
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| I’ve seen emotions derail and disappear
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| Go feed the colorful snakes outside, she said to me
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| Go break your colorful bones in a fight, she begged of me
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| We are returning to the ominous
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| We are a lost cause
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| We are committing to the dominance
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| Of these black claws
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| I try to smile when I get bad news
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| Figure if there is any good left, I’ll get that too
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| The blood is red but the veins are blue
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| And my bones are every color on the spectrum between the two
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| I squeeze through the cells that we’ve been locked in
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| Kinda high from the loss of the oxygen
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| Headrush, flushed, dropping dead weight
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| My canine scrapes the last crumbs off my bread plate
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| Just head straight
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| No maps or no atlas
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| No matter how the road curves don’t end up backwards
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| Black birds circle brown dirt for the big worms
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| My bad dream catcher hangs high as it twist turns
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| Cities burn a bad smoke
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| It makes my eyes itch
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| But front row seats to apocalypse are priceless
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| Life is hanging here in these black claws
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| Staring at a white sky full of black stars |