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Andrii Panfilov Jan 2019
Put it on my mama, that violets are blue, roses are red, and my heart is dead and so is your heart.
Ezra Dec 2014
Sometimes I try to sing at the top of my lungs but--
Nothing will ever come out
The Muses ripped out my vocal cords.

They leave me in deafening silence.


It was a sad life, because I could hear the Muses fine,
I just couldn't say a single thing.
It was as if God gave me wisdom to cure mankind but--

I can't sing it, I can't scream it from the rooftops,
I can't tell it to the world,
I can't whisper it to myself,

I live in an opera where nothing reverberes.
I live in a concert where no one claps,

I live now, today, evermore.

— The End —