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Latin For Truth
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Shithead Prose
all the saint's in the cellars hiding beneath the art they made who's to say a miracle can be measured visually I'm over my indifference cause it doesn't fit art is hell and I'm not the poster boy for it
who's to blame, I guess it's me felt like shit when I got the call who's to blame, I guess it's me
ruth, I'm sorry, I gave up because I was weak you taught me better, that will endure all the things you lived for through me
fold me out on the bed I made I disrespected myself and from where I came double stitched my problems to every spot I lay my head till there was no room left for me in my bed
hiding out or hiding in Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com Losing time or cutting risks Spacing out or disconnecting or spitting shithead prose in the wind?
Ruth, I'm sorry, I gave up because I was weak you taught me better, that will endure all the things you lived for through me
shithead prose for a human dynamo how can something so ugly give the world some thing beautiful I pass my time with the simple wonders of day to day I'm not sure there is another way but I do try when I think of who's given me the opportunities I passed on to find myself and where am I after years of searching still 12 years old at 24 I'm still 12 years old at 24 I'm still 12 years old at 24
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