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Another song for the Autumn...             A ditty for the pretty things that couldn't stay Seems ******* silly not to smoke 'em all while ya got 'em.                     Gotta find fine shoes                     when you choose the run-away Another song for the Autumn...        A ballad for the beauty that I couldn't frame. Seems pretty stupid not to **** it all; what's not rotten.                But the world's grown tired of singing                And my throat's been beginning to get                                         real sore.                Shot our shots in the dark with some                                           feeling.                 Felt sure that we missed,                 but we don't know what we hit                 A million pieces, unseen, and bare feet                                         on the hard, cold floor Been pretty quiet all Winter.       It's blizzard after blizzard, hugged by static months. Feels kinda funny keeping warm while all nature's freezing                     Chatter teeth 'til they crack—                     cracking bad jokes to no one                         'til the sky stops teasing                                                                   me. Been pretty quiet this Winter.          Been sliding over sidewalks, slugging static shots. Feels sorta futile not to kiss it all long forgotten                But this throat's grown tired of singing                And the world's been beginning to go                                       stark deaf.             Still shoot my shots in the dark with a                                         feeling                Sure I'll only miss.                What would I do if it hit?      A ricocheted round and two feet meet ground after theft.                  I know I'll be nursing this one                                 for a while—                  Lick the sour wound while the                              daylight fades.                  So hit the **** dimmer on your way                                 out the door.                  I'll be fine in the gloam                  'til you find your way home...                  I'll be fine in the dark we                                    shot into.               Pour another one, sweets, in the                                   endless cup.                 I'll be fine in the dim, with my                               separated skin,            until the Springtime comes and I can                            sew this ****** up.
0
Mar 23, 2025
Mar 23, 2025 at 5:41 PM UTC
Separated Skin
Another song for the Autumn...             A ditty for the pretty things that couldn't stay Seems ******* silly not to smoke 'em all while ya got 'em.                     Gotta find fine shoes                     when you choose the run-away Another song for the Autumn...        A ballad for the beauty that I couldn't frame. Seems pretty stupid not to **** it all; what's not rotten.                But the world's grown tired of singing                And my throat's been beginning to get                                         real sore.                Shot our shots in the dark with some                                           feeling.                 Felt sure that we missed,                 but we don't know what we hit                 A million pieces, unseen, and bare feet                                         on the hard, cold floor Been pretty quiet all Winter.       It's blizzard after blizzard, hugged by static months. Feels kinda funny keeping warm while all nature's freezing                     Chatter teeth 'til they crack—                     cracking bad jokes to no one                         'til the sky stops teasing                                                                   me. Been pretty quiet this Winter.          Been sliding over sidewalks, slugging static shots. Feels sorta futile not to kiss it all long forgotten                But this throat's grown tired of singing                And the world's been beginning to go                                       stark deaf.             Still shoot my shots in the dark with a                                         feeling                Sure I'll only miss.                What would I do if it hit?      A ricocheted round and two feet meet ground after theft.                  I know I'll be nursing this one                                 for a while—                  Lick the sour wound while the                              daylight fades.                  So hit the **** dimmer on your way                                 out the door.                  I'll be fine in the gloam                  'til you find your way home...                  I'll be fine in the dark we                                    shot into.               Pour another one, sweets, in the                                   endless cup.                 I'll be fine in the dim, with my                               separated skin,            until the Springtime comes and I can                            sew this ****** up.
kyle-kulseth
Written by
M/American
Mar 23, 2025
Mar 23, 2025 at 5:41 PM UTC
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