There’s a magnitude and a meaning to writing verses in the dirt
Choosing the words and scraping the kerbs with how much this fucking hurts
I’d do anything for meaning but its price is fucking blood
And so I will pain and I will hate in ways I never thought I could
Now apathy is pouring from every mouth and every vein
But to those two are one and the same
So I’ll throw my bleeding body
From this sinking deck
And harmony will be the rope
That rings my neck
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