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Oct 2014
Walking out from behind the tape,
I'm watched with each step I take.
They see me wear my soul on my skin,
They don't know where to begin.
Point out the faults, point out all I've done wrong,
They hate the sight of a man who should be gone  .

I walk to them with sliver platter in hand,
Serve them the ideals and beliefs I got in cans.
They eat every bite and the aftertaste fights it's way back up.
Wow, they sure do hate it but they can't get enough.
After a couple rounds of give and take,
They stand up and tip quite poorly, what do they think I make?

They demand to know how I could serve them such trash.
You call this you? You aren't  ****. Why did we even ask?
Tell me that I'm wrong, tell me that I can't be,
Stop smiling, stop loving! ****, I think they want to crucify me.
An hour later I stand out on the cross,
I'd be sad but whatever, I  served all I got.
I put it all out there, and I don't want you to say a thing. Admire your impact, you bring this out of me.
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