There¡¯s no cure so why should i care
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You have fled into this blackness
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In this sling i must contain
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You use your force
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To comfort my trembling hands
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And fold them aside
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These hued eyes
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They have sent
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The longest beatings
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The hour bows
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To seek some light
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With golden strings
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You construct this wheel
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With your threads of argentine
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A Vessel For A Minor Malady
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Shannon Wright |