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Oct 2013
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I  got an itch and I never scratch it.
I wish I could attack it with hatchets
have at it like addicts, -get higher than attics
smother it like asthmatics.
***** out its flame.
Cause the itch lays the tracks for train in my brain
just a scratch and I know that I'd go insane,
so the itch just remains. 
Simple and plain.
But the itch won't control me
cause scratchin it won't console me
the comfort it brings is phony
even when I feel lonely.
I used scratch without noticing
in an itchless-ness bliss,
until I scratched my self raw
a fact that I somehow missed.
that's when you know that you're trapped,
all that you can do is scratch
cause if you don't then you'll crash
a striked match turned to ash.
you've gone and burned out all your midnight oil
nothing left from feasting spoiled
the itch makes your blood boil.
who knew that the pleasure that came from this friction
would turn against you so fast and create an addiction
there's no predictions for scratching
but for the scratching itself
except scratching always leaves you lonely
cause you just scratch yourself
and I wish I could shut these problems off with a switch,
but I got ninety-nine problems and the itch is the *****.
Michael Cameron Vegh
Written by
Michael Cameron Vegh  Hamilton, Ontario
(Hamilton, Ontario)   
   Arabella and Layne Joy
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