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Prehistoric Thinking

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I'm looking towards the church walls and the glass is speaking, but its speaking in
different tongues and I'm starting to wonder if I'm actually going crazy from indecision.
What do i do Father, this straight jacket is holding my mind set, it needs to be
released so i can fly like christ's jet, but then my conscience kicks in again
and that indecisive look on my face starts spreading across my whole body
leaving me looking like a broken piece of glass, shattered because all i know
and love was pulled outta some prehistoric monk's ass.





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