White Surgeon
Drama Beat
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Synthetic bitter pain
Taste of meds hospital walls
Huge catheters feel the veins
Red pipes suck the will
Can you feel that? Can you feel?
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Face the scene
It’s ice and fainting and colored bruises
Psichedelia of suffering flesh in decomposition
Big dreams reduced to test tubes
May I dream for you? I don’t think so
I’m the white surgeon
I’m the light that blinds
Let me live in your coffin
Let me die in your arms
