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A whiff of dust to come
No accent better than broken-english
The country's a **** hole now though.
Hallelujah's dwindle the arcades like pendulous chasms
Chasing down the shadows only to end up with their tails
In their throats.
The silence was eerie. I was asleep half the day because
There was nothing to do when up
And far less to do when I was down
But I guess I'm just more use to the feeling of a sunken ship.
The bells and sirens are screaming now though;
The worst part is that no matter how much I improve myself
The biggest issues are circumstantial.
Devil watching the TV and grinning as if he'd snatched the souls
To mansons; I was too hung up on the risk to ever take chances
But I've grew sick of romantascing my struggles
Swear to God I've been dragging the same cold winter on my back
From like five years ago and I've just been letting it stack while I
Selectively snip the worst of it following one too many mistakes...
I've grown truly wise in a sense that I no longer rely on hope,
Been broken in the same way too many times to react the same as I had been.
We're all destined for the ground so I am going to stand mine while I still can.
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