Crumbling at the very core of my being
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Dropped on my spine and now I find
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My spine is made of glass
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Wax veined, moth to the flame
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Bones grind, dropped on my spine
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Bloodstained glass in the sand
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Softly slaughter the lamb
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So slow, knife in my back
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Remains like needle tracks
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Beautiful words are seldom true
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Tongue of thorns, my spine is glass
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Spineglass
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My spine is glass
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-----------------
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SpineGlass
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| Kill II This |
