kind of like spitting – rowing a dead horse lyrics
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chasing a lie
tracing our scars
moaning for help to be held
and every day we feel further away from ourselves
the concrete is wet, i feel too comfortable
my response isn’t limited to reactions
and everything dies it’s little deaths everyday
so with my head up my -ss
and my foot on the gas
i set out to write a synonym for loss
hands caught in the door
and my face on the floor
i’ll write one for you
thanks to justin (xcore@optonline.net) for these lyrics
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