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There's nothing like the burden of being completely awake at night. The morning comes in a hurry the sunlight retrieves yesterday's denial. There's an old man making noise outside rummaging through our cans. At least he knows why he awoke, self-preservation.
And writing is futile when you're amongst illiterates and my voice is getting hoarse from screaming at deaf ears. Efforts are wasted and time will be burned, the hole gets deeper with every verse...but somehow, this all makes sense.
Well the money on the dresser is gonna be wasted on liquor, what a joke. I'll be crawling into my bed no sense of victory or glory or remorse. I'm pissed at myself, I'm piss drunk but mainly fucking bored. A reaction from anyone, I wrote this song before with different lyrics.
We got a band in a warehouse, a subtle sense of accomplishment. It burns out all my energy and exhausts me to the point of nausea. It's the right dose slowly dissolving at the right time. I wrote this song before with different lyrics.