vic chesnutt – the mad passion of the stoic lyrics
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hunched over a little round bar table
ineligible for the draft
small pencil at epistolary
sun on a rheostat
strong tea gurgling in gut
looking out across the smoky castling harbor
oh, how wrong things sparkle and entrance alas
sugar cannot sustain one, oh, so fine forbidden
flitting in front, coaxing the confident cat off
the cozy sofa over the sloping edge into the
k!lling cleansing magma
so easy to accept
but so hard to understand
as the raging river tears
(as the)
at those doting terra banks
(doting)
that hug, hold and ultimately define it
(holding, uttering)
as the raging river tears
(as the raging)
as those doting terra banks
(doting)
we claw our coy comforts
“you always hurt the one you love.”
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