PRIDE! PRIDE! PRIDE!

RENT IS DUE!

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    Ten to nine, slightly closed eyes
    Seeing visions of a different non-existent
    Time interrupted by eight missed calls
    Dialing my fight or flight in seconds
    Seven unread messages demanding my reply

    I can barely read the time
    But I'll try to read the lines
    As I open, a stoic expression is my first reaction
    You can see it in my answers
    I stop for six seconds
    Stuck writing the beginning five letters

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    Four sentences constructed
    To encompass a quarter of life's lessons
    Each character carefully incubated
    To perfection like medals

    I spit them out from the trenches
    Exchanging tension for tension on foggy lenses
    Trembling, praying you can't sense it

    Three dots staring at me turn to mentions of my temper
    And nonsensical ramble of how two years render useless
    If it tramples with your pride

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Thomas Adam Chapman

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