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Sep 2018
To be bitter
To be justified
To set grip cells
On nuance of despise refined
Clear as a bell in chapter one
But still
This old hat robe
Of one trick
Same old song
The big mistakes we all pretend to make
You know I know you know I know
Lets look this up
Hallowed ***** patsy
Of the only book
We ever reed We never read
Oh god these Rhythmic word sounds sway our head
Don’t analyse forbidden trees
Ye even me
With my vitriol against all this
How could I resist
You know I’m feeling it
The moral thread of what we chose
Man I worship naked flesh
But still Id die for clothes
And ****
This ****** birth ******* cuts me to the bone
Excuses
All 200.000 first cast stones
Yet glimmer folk tail of the trees
Progeny of blood and spiel
Xenophiliac
We crave unknown.
Diversity
And paradise was not
For we subvert, mutate, make art
Pain a small price
For a heart that drinks
In the textures of the voice
A Moan that never really changes much
From first outrage to last exchange
Pockmarks of agro-culture on my skin
The weight of centuries of blunder
Before I make this my own sin
Guns, germs and all that you can steal
And yes I'v contemplated ******
Now I can’t tear my gaze from your mouth slick with grease
Of more dead flesh
Pretty girls with big wet eyes. Break my heart and make me
Cross your legs and swear to die
Pretty boys who love my rage. Resent my kindness. Crave my cage
Everybody wants to cry
DNA thats drenched in irony
Catastrophe
Atrocity
Fatal mistakes
And yet
Our hands still shake
The blood still sings
Dancing
In the future that we bring
Cronedrome
Written by
Cronedrome
169
   Fawn and ---
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