As the congregation grows
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The lung of solitude deflates
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To my ears the greatest sin
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Feel a bit like Beethoven
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Simultaneous they speak unbeknownst
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Exiled to the inner voice, difference is...
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He had no choice
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We can't seem to find the air
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To get our message through your heads
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Poor respiration is sure
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To keep clear communication obscure
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As if I should care
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As if you are listening out there
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The louder you speak the more I can hear
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The less I can understand
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Pound on it, pound it in
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To my ears the greatest sin
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Feel a bit like Beethoven
|
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Paint my lungs so silently
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The darkest color of your noise
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A crowd will contradict it's own audibility
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Can't hear the dialogue for the voice
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No one is listening
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Yet ears are ringing
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Ears are ringing...
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In the morning I will see
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What you were trying to say to me
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As I respond into the sink
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Need not again hear myself think
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Ears are ringing...
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Wax within my ears has grown
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Just like the snot inside my nose
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My interpretation of distorted conversation
|
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I will kill for isolation
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Sacrifice the energy
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To enjoy the breath of silence
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When the blood comes naturally
|
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I have chosen to plug my nose
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Before the threshold of pain has grown
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Mole out from society
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Survive off my soliloquy
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Removed I can speak as he has
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Bleeding from nose throat and ears
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-----------------
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Slowly Growing Deaf
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Mr. Bungle |