When words are things I cannot feel or see,
And "I cannot read inside of me",
Or begin to describe the message my feelings send,
"I push my lungs up and pretend,
"I push my lungs up and pretend,
I pretend to be fire at them."
Oh the usual systems of mercy, They are departed and gone,* The machine has broken down, The mechanism is all wrong And it's grace and...
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