Rude things your eyes never said
You store them up inside your head
And feed, all butter and bread
Cut the roll, cut them down
No one listens, no one wants you dead.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
After a busy day when confronting admin
We must all come Find ourselves And we will all be found Regardless As the sun finds the morning As breath finds the lungs As I am found ...
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She shares the blame For Adam's fall So secure, attractive Brilliant in a certain view The essence of Enlightenment I see her raise her ...
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Final Thoughts From an AGM You want to mess with me? I can take you down a notch Spill the beans I’ll spill your blood Tooth for tooth, splo...
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Standing on a Hillside Sometimes you look back on where you have been Past the cloud-fluffy daffodils bobbing and green Through the deep dar...
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