| Another night down on the catherine wheel
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| Drawn into a corner
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| A symphony of resounding shrieks in my head
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| I court a sure, sudden death
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| But give no quarter
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| A paper soul tears the heart from the mind
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| Searing is the morning, a tenement of lights
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| Lost inside the attic
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| On the floor again with a head full of rain
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| Wander with the shadows of shelter and smiles
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| Bleeding in a stairwell
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| Fever-staggered steps and a mouth so dry
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| Three liquid words collapse
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| Blind and chasing sirens
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| Five years of night time and a heart made of tin
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| Allow your sympathies the length of a table
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| I recognize no brother
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| Lash out at their smiles and walk in through their eyes
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| As my knowledge, does the knowing
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| Split my being from past days
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| In decision, in departing
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| In the severance of old ways
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| With precision, in my silence
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| I perceive the bitter still
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| Imposition, these young calling
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| Withered kisses, or the kill?
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| Together we stand
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| We stand so still
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| Indifference, hollow laughter
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| Bathes the walls of this lost home
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| So futile, all attempts
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| Affectations, long to roam
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| Ever spinning, vile actress
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| Answered blindly to the call
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| The price, child yet again we sit
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| And watch our private rome fall
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| I am not well
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| No, not well at all |