i trace all my failures back to the notches of your spine
escapism, thats how this works.
burying my head in the sand.
lying on the sofa with my eyes closed, I didnt want to see it this way, everything eating everything in the end. We know how the light works, we know where the sound is coming from. Verse. Chorus. Verse. I'm sorry. We know how it works. The world is no longer mysterious.
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