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Darkness, it comes for me.
19.1.08
CIX.
The numbness in the tips of my fingers and toes,
White on the ground, blues on the radio,
Paint, concrete, grace and headlights high
I do this to myself just to get by.
Cold, Cold, Cold, Cold...
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Broken Records. Broken Teeth.
Recalled To Life
vile and wretched
Wealth and Excursions
Meaningless, Meaningless, Meaningless
Pastoral Genocide
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