1. |
To Sprout From Decay
02:23
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Crippled and tossed into a creek by another beautiful face
Alone now I've forgotten my habits with nothing to do
Killing myself isn't fun anymore, poker became a penance
Instead I'm playing hopscotch
What do you wake up to?
You lie asleep for a king, enticed by timeless notions of royalty
Push and pull, then push and push, your constant game oozes nostalgia and likeness to my past drug addiction
It started in the silo and continued here at work where hours and hours are gone
Four cycles pass - my emotions ice over on top of throwing up blood
Several Hells I've escaped but Purgatory is forever my rain cloud
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2. |
Dirt Between The Tiles
02:56
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Sick of reading lies
Papers torn from books of love glued to walls with shit
His brain's always been like this, just cyanide triggered
And the blimps keep the powder coming
Six patches stripping off the old jacket
Better to embrace impermanence than to struggle against the way of things
Should have fallen down from the start
I'm happier the darker it gets so please don't pity me, there's gold in the greyest clouds
Black in every human soul I meet
Last chance I gave fixed this compassionate disposition, and I excluded nobody from my list
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3. |
This Last Siren
02:48
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I can't remember their names, but their fucking faces...
The bald one with a crucifix, an utter piece of shit
Always playing pocket pool in front of the children
Second had a hairlip, a cropped out fade
I wonder what happened when I left school.. finally
She had someone else look after her perhaps - no, this isn't about her
Third, saw him at the park two years ago
Threw toxic glances at the orchids after wiping the spittle from my chin
Set candles next to the tombstone to light his way to hell
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Cara Neir Dallas
2008-2024 arlington, tx.
chris francis
garry brents
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