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■ I know what you're thinking, father
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Keeping close to our demons,
Open wide but have no trust, In your feelings made of smoke, In my body made of dust. At the safety of our wall, Not so far away from lust, I strip feelings made of smoke For your body made of dust. Under skins we wear our colors, In our bones the words we spoke, Kissing bodies made of dust, Crushing feelings made of smoke.
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