you're sewn to the slate dark, embroidered eyesight chain you up, the comforts of your cage hung by your heels rotating sadness smiles your delight their help comes as hurt an ultraviolet umbrella put you out, the comforts of the curb hum holy hymns freedom's a fable without a villain you're mired in the middle a thornbush sandwich stuck you up, the comforts of the critical futile future feigns a race with four lines you can't finish
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