I think that the sweetest things are better off alone, to dissolve in the ground like animal bones. With no time to think about all the little things -- a shopping list or your mom weeping. At the hospital, my boss was an ancient astronaut -- at least that's what he told the cops, when they pulled him over on the thruway, 96 in a 65 -- Said "son, where's the fucking fire?", I said "it never goes out in my mind, because it's what hurt my wife, and I'm speeding now so I can hold her hand, because I can't tell her it's all right." I cum on your lips, and you say thanks for my well wishing -- it's the parts that haunt in this old friendship. Cut my line at sea and let me drift for years, until my beard glows white with salt, yeah my brain's full of holes, too much memory pumping out my dirty mouth... Said "son, where's the fucking fire?" I said "I let it die in my mind, because it burned so bright, and I'm speeding so I can hold your hand, because I can't tell you it's all right."
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