i can survive, but i don't know if i want to.
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turn off the machines. i've sprung a thousand leaks.
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i can feel everything. listen.
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get your fingers out from under my skin.
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just let me lay back and drip.
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paste up my parts and i'll be a bed-ridden frankenstein
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with diseased mental faculty,
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a depression you can't remedy with your scalpels,
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your stitches, and stainless steel,
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your arrogant radical zeal, i'm bleeding, infected, unsterile
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i've got bags that you can't cure.
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Doctor! Doctor! Doctor, are you listening?
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i'm trying to explain something, but you're not listening
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like i can't speak.
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-----------------
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Drama In The Emergency Room
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I Hate Myself |