You can count all you like, but it won't add up.
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In your tired mind, or your more tired book.
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You killed it today, as if it hasn't meant anything,
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Forgetting the weight of what used to have meaning.
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It used to have meaning.
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Abrading, watching as you shave this down to nothing,
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until there's nothing left.
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Waiting, as you arm yourself with turpentine
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and burn me off just like the rest.
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So you've drained all the life, from these swollen lungs.
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To dumb down the time, and egg on the rust.
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You killed it today, as if it hasn't meant anything.
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Forgetting the weight, of what used to have meaning.
|
Abrading, watching as you shave this down to nothing,
|
until there's nothing left.
|
Waiting, for you to arm yourself with turpentine
|
and burn me off just like the rest.
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Would you be happy then?
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All this for nothing.
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-----------------
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Your Abrasion
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Time Spent Driving |