...In The Place Of Numbers
Face the facts that do you harm,
Boy, you're growing old,
Felt those nails driven in to his palms,
We shape, we mould,
Ask yourself for opinion,
Revel in the rapture of confusion
I couldn't second guess or defer,
These eyes are tearless,
This soul now fearless,
This life now over,
I remember
Months of caution thrown in to the wind
When we laughed so hard,
What the fuck was I laughing at?
And why am I still smiling?
She never felt so hard.
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