| My god was formed in the
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| South with a smile, And
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| Anger pent up till pearls
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| Brighten the sky, I need you
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| But when it’s turned
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| I am sparse, Worthless, selfish
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| And sick for a start
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| I stole for my high and let
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| The revulsion rot inside…
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| Carving through my brain with an attentive pen
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| I stop myself from fixing things
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| Will it be the cane that
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| Pushes you to your dreams?
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| Or the cold clammy palms
|
| With their impatient feet
|
| Will it be the cane that
|
| Pushes you to your dreams?
|
| Or the regret you grasp
|
| When the raptures believed
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| And we are gonna explode…
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| Blaze up into a crackling
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| Should-have
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| The sun has had its time
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| Our kind created nothing more than disease
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| Greeting a challenge with ease, Go, and pay, the respects
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| You ow To whoever saves you, I must scramble
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| Like the rodent I am
|
| Will it be the cane that
|
| Pushes you to your dreams?
|
| Or the cold clammy palms
|
| With their impatient feet
|
| Will it be the cane that
|
| Pushes you to your dreams?
|
| Or the regret you grasp
|
| When the raptures believed |