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letra de oedipus - dead men don't wear plaid

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in this throne i answer no questions only feeding what i believe

more self pride than the lionhearted king

life is near perfection

like the king himself glory and riches influencing this crusade

friends,family

everything touched

turned to ash.

with everyday more precious than the last

expecting chronos to heal this wound

standing alone in a crowd of disease

is this so obvious.

a wound in perpetual immaturity

no name or description

poison pumped through veins.

scaring the body both inside and out

psychologically unclean

i am hollow

faultfinding

discriminating

loose and unfit this mask

accompanied by a suit

hoping to be mistaken for a hero

receiving undeserved recognition)

interrogating

the remaining roots that struggle to nourish.

this organism that is considered nothing but a nuisance

no definite explination for its existence.

{time heals no wound

repair the cracks in this gl-ss heart} x2

i enjoy the simple things in life but i can never appreciate the comlpex
foundation that is formed by experience, this foundations single purpose is
to hold my character, my personality. my home. which goes under maintenence
every day. cracks filled the walls forever changing to fit the needs of the
new culture.

without enjoying my “home’s” foundation. i do not appreciate who i am today

{forgivness, forgivness

repairs the cracks in a gl-ss heart.}

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