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A cloud of flies obscure the sun a stone is dropped the dream
Undone ripples grow and ride the tide the dead thing crawls
From deep inside with its dying sour breath the burning smell
Of insect flesh hungry things in circles crowd around tv's
Turned up to loud we are the dead next door where the dirty
Needles shine and litter the floor taste the light inject the
Lord I cut myself again because I'm so fuckin' bored the dream
Is swirling, I'm alone where the streets are paved with bon e
Buidings with a hundred eyes watch me thru the swarming flies
Behind shades pulled down tight things are growing without
Light hungry things in circles crowd around tvd turned up to
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