Poor Atlas
Dessa
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I'm building a body
From balsam and ash
I'm building a body with
No god attached
I'm building a body
From blueprints in Braille
I'm building a body
Where our design had failed
There's a book full of plans
At the feet of poor Atlas
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Titlled "For Man"
But the architects only drew blanks
Now there's nowhere to go
But go back, go back, go back, go back