guess you could say
i'm forever stuck in my ways
multiplying life until death while dividing growth and decay
I dont want to leave here without something to say
nothing to save, lost my mark like satellites flung into space
cut me out, paper mache, a temporary player in the game
we go from remaining to prepare to someone who prepares our remains
til then, i'll be chasing a happy medium baritone range
baring no legs, out of the blue rising to the surface like varicose veins
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Last edited by Saint; 04-21-2023 at 06:05 PM.
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