Sometimes daily life grinds.
Saw mill singing bullshit.
And we get tired of the weight
The stones stacking on our backs
Driving us into the grave.
We start seeing grey
Like Charlie Chaplin,
We hold our tongues.
We need to wake up
From our stagnant delusions
Our false truths
Our cerebral contusions.
See through a child’s eyes.
We need to get caught in a storm like Dorothy
Find a new home out west.
I don’t care anymore
Fuck it!
I’m done trying to help you see.
Find a reason to live life
Or end it now zombie bitch
You’re already dead.
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