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Oct 2019
So I am going to write a song
Anyway I can imagine
I wouldn’t understand it
I feel that something is slightly off
But it’s not enough to save me
From suffering and working

I’ve got three hours to do this work
I want to start over badly
I don’t want to be judged free
Oh, all the clocks are ticking so fast
But I’m here thinking of you dear
It hurts my ears the breathing

Can I blast all of my screams aloud?
I know it’s so weird for you but
This is music to me cause
Even though there is no real melody
It gives me this sort of feeling
My brain is always peeling

I hear my mother’s snoring in the buzz of my old desktop
My mouth cannot be closed

Oh, just one more verse to make me happy
Everything is an illusion
Hey, when’s the last time I talked to Lucian?
I don’t know why we had such a bond
Now there’s nothing left in common
All imagery forgotten
Written by
Trout  Chicago
(Chicago)   
93
 
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