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apt (usa-ut) - antonius block lyrics

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walks around the corner grabbing groceries at allen’s
his headphones blasting “trying to find a balance”
nose clogged, eyes water, throat full of scratches
calls into work, “i’ve got the plague. don’t panic.”
lunch consists of sodium, chicken, broth and crackers
sleep. tv. sleep. that’s the pattern
in the haze his mind turns to more serious matters
he’s surprised by a figure when the lamp turns
so many places to be, death keeps their visits short
just stopped by to say he’d make such an exquisite corpse
“that’s all the visit’s for? seems like you would visit more
might i ask a question? i’d like a bigger picture of the score
why is so much of life caught in the shadows?
like you can build your own cross or you can build your gallows
escape from one fate then get caught in the shallows
is that the only path from callow to hallowed?”
they rolled their eyes and sighed, “only from an artist…
i have no great knowledge, i pull the plugs regardless.”
he shook his head, couldn’t accept the harshest
hardship doesn’t guarantee catharsis
thought all along he was lit in the refiner’s flame
he let the dire reign cause it came from a higher plane
now come to find most of his scars won’t get his sire’s praise
feels like yet another p-wn lost in this tired game
so check mate for the day, death’s left him to his devices
his vice is, these knife slits, he likes it
a mood to match his empty room, dark as his sight is
another sentence ending different than the way he’d write it
so take that bookmark and place it in the fold
a round of nyquil shots taken to the throat
prays, “if i die tonight, my veins just close
bury me in gingham b-ttoned straight to the throat.”

shake your chains, walk that block
call my name when the lights go off

even darker days spent laying, stayin’ p-ssed out
little beam of light pushing through his windows blacked out
the dust it dances in it just to romance the victim
him and his sadness quickened right to the last bout
can’t even lash out, for all intents it’s over
wonders if he’s crazy but feels intensely sober
a little closure’s what he should intend to broker
but he’s riding in the back seat with death as his chauffeur
that’s what he tells himself at least while tryin to wrestle with the beast
ain’t got the meddle for defeat but still he settles for repeats
he needs to stand on his feet
but it’s angel in the inspiration, devil in the deed
and speak of the devil, time for another visit fine
rolls his eyes, what’s this specter gonna go and say this time
“save it if you’re here to say that i should get a thicker spine”
looks in their eyes , realizes it’s the finish line
for a fraction of a second the whole universe is wordless
it all reverses, last thing he feels is worthless
“wait, wait, wait! please! just do me this one service
don’t carry out your purpose, i haven’t even earned it”
they say “it’s not about deserve or earn or plans, son
i’m only hear because it’s clear, my dear, right now your sand’s done”
metal towards the sky. stares him in the eyes
he doesn’t even blink while they swing down the scythe



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