You see me hang my spirits high
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My dirty linen's out to dry
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I've sought not freedom nor espy
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Placating reason in the rhyme
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A vindication of my crime
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To ridicule the most sublime
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Is an art I wish to kill
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Now I'm crowning new dementia
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With the thorns of yesterday
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Liaising pandora
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Laureate of disarray
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Each eye through blindness finds its sight
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Each peak through valleys finds its height
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Each wrong through nil can make a right
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For nil will excavate that strain
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Nor subjugate the caustic pain
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The linen doused within the rain
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Again and again and again...
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Now I'm crowning new dementia
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With the thorns of yesterday
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Liaising pandora
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Laureate of disarray
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And I'm breathing in absentia
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Through the thorns of every day
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Liaising pandora
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As I drink the guilt away
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Laisand Pandora
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Chalice |