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February 24, 2010
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By threat of death, you told me this
Rope burn scars around your wrists
And ridges run straight down your back
Red mountain slopes and dried out cracks

Cast your love with leather strips
And hope you find a willing fish
Shut your eyes and grit your teeth
Wait for the bait to sink beneath

Plead with your quixotic smile
To stay with you, a little while
Behind your normal shell of skin
Live metal shadows cast by sin

Secrets become hard to latch
Start to run, they’re hard to catch
Run deep into the sticky mire
Try to set yourself on fire

Manifest in straight black words
Never seen and never heard
Close the little yellow box
And pray you’re holding the right stocks.





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