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Artiste:
Tub Ring
Titre:
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i dont believe that we can concieve of an afterlife that's meant to be percieved catastrophes, calamity, catastrophe everyone loves a tragedy, but there's guns there's guns guns guns pointed at our head everytime we close our eyes but what are we, little folk to do about this bakery full of lies we don't need no one to turn out the lights for us (when we go to sleep) catastrophes calamities, in our dreams when we dream we like to dream about tragedy and afterlife a percieved reality, a tragedy a catastrophe it seems my life is only just pretend and dreams are only what you make of them and themes are reocurring so often if i were wise i'd see a trend we don't need no one to turn out the lights for us arguing things that have never been said the mail was empty, the books were unread progress hindered by arrogance inquiries made in present tense future stars will be twice as dense as ours twice as dense as ours repetition shoved down my throat answers given by anecdote crueler sonnets were never wrote at all never wrote at all we don't need no one to turn out the lights for us how can you sleep at a time like this the answer was pointless, the question amiss to err while conscious the words a mistake how can i afford to stay awake