The hollowed out chest of a dead horse
Page 99
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Ive seen you sitting in your bed,
In your brown gown of dead flowers
And inside your room, in its
Corners where spiders crawl,
And a sour dream centipede slips under
Your mattress until it's time, oh,
Oh, gimme that back, i want my back, back. oh your beauty, let it rot, let it rot. let it fucking rot. lie down now... if you please darling, so i can do our world a service, dream, dream, and dream.
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