Days bunch up in weeks, collaborate months against me.
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The sheets are stained with evidence that our remains are now, drifting away.
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I share with complete strangers my most personal of pleasures.
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I scribble tidbits of useless mind info- trash, treasure.
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Spend hours, at my leisure, like sharpened precise tweezers.
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Shifting through in the frame by frame
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I walk the same path
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I'll say the same lines
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I do this every time
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Do this every time
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Dodging armpit stench aromatic
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Wrapped up in my own self-induced stress panic
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I think I am the only one in this shifting through
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They'll collaborate in months against me.
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-----------------
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Frame By Frame
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| The Honorary Title |