Lost in a paperback rain
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Picking through books that you won't read again
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Keeping your promises vague
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Lost in the crowd in the circus parade
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Keeping your Polaroids dry
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Delirious fevers burn night after night
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The cryptic malaise that you're in
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The art that may come of it I'd recommend
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To focus attention on books you might write
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Ripped off from diaries, kept out of sight
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The evidence you hide
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Keeping your bed warm at night
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It's not an illusion it glows very bright
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With the young coal the fire is fed
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Who you keep with you is best left unsaid
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On finding particular friends
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Remember that all moral fiber will bend
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To put them in letters you burn as you write
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Seen in reflections and not with your eyes
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Cultivating lies
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The Evidence You Hide
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| Monks of Doom |