Miracle Mile

Before Braille

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    I'm ready to blow
    It's not my fault
    Don't waste a four-leaf clover
    Good happens to the owner
    Just wait, when the leaves fall
    They go below your faults
    Now you're just boring me to death
    I've got a catacomb underneath the same place I lay my head
    I've gotta bury them blind and then control what they find
    I'm hanging on a thread
    You know I'm ready to blow like I've told you I would
    Out of nothing you find your own authority
    Cleanse the water to send your holy blessings
    I'm flying solo, I'm falling so low, where do we go
    Out of nothing you find your own authority
    Forbidden honor will go as far as atrophy
    I'm flying solo
    I'll go
    Now you're just boring me to death
    I've got a cataract focused on a shaky conscience at best (shaky guest)
    I've got to make up my mind and try to make up some time
    I'm hanging on a thread
    You know I'm ready to blow, but not quite yet
    You know I'm ready to fold, can't count my cards yet
    You know I'm ready to forget all we've been through
    You know I'm ready for you
    The shaken are desperate for new sounds on old ground
    To bury reflections,
    infections from strong hands in weak glands
    And when they're awakened their vision will fade
    It aint a bit of my fault
    I'm gonna miss her

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