There's blood in the sink, and he's plunging his wrists in.
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A hangover halo is washing away.
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Mechanic-school dropout stares into the mirror,
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stands up in his derelict daydreams.
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Always too tall,
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always walked around wearing a smile that was never quite sure of itself.
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Planning a future of failures inflicted in phone calls
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from strip clubs and bail bonds.
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There's a light left on.
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There's a pace to our direction.
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There's a movie-still of a heart I'd like to mention.
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Don't give me that look,
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I looked harder than most did,
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let details like sharp nails punch holes in my shoes.
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Soft-traced to frown as I put the receiver down.
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Where do I go for a pardon?
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There's a light left on.
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There's a pace to our direction.
|
There's a movie-still of a heart I'd like to mention.
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We're listing what's left: a signed Slayer t-shirt,
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a car up on blocks in his mother's back yard.
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-----------------
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History To The Defeated
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The Weakerthans |