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letra de autopilot - circadian lapse

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my temperature’s rising someone call the doctor. but honestly what could he do? there’s been no rest for the madness in me. jesus christ, i guess i’ll concede before i forget how to connect again. i’ll bare the crosses of those i’ve infected. a heavier conscience beats. another four years that i won’t be able to recollect. saying something over and over again never makes it right. i give credit to those who stand up and fight. but it’s not same when my minds constricted, sinking into it. a slave to all of this. motionless. i’m bringing out my fathers guns. turn this battle faster than it begun. dragging my feet behind me. a new shadow chasing me. progression is motion. it takes action so it can exist, so a rotting recluse gets no signs other than to stay in motion. there’s a clear drop to your death kind of edge that gets further and further away, when i’m stuck to these walls and neglect the pressing yet fleeting urge to reach out

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