I am just an atom in an ectoplasmic sea Without direction or a reason to exist. The anechoic nebula rotating in my brain Is persuading me, contritely, to persist
I used to be golden. A Saint in a time of Sorrow. But then the turning came and I kissed the sun goodbye. Don't you get it? It's always darker in my eyes The screams, of my brotheres egging me on.
I'm sitting at my new desk, in a my new clothes talking on the phone with mortagage lenders, borrowers, title companies, escrow, apparaisers and all sorts of other shit. Man this is crazy
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