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Posted and Roasted With a Smile
Been posted, subsequently roasted, torn into like torn is my purpose
From destination, just like suffocation when you observed the "we" as "us"
Bounced and jaded, subconsciously faded, old like the dust on the shelf
Like hence and forth, walking out the door but not with anyone else
Maybe it was prophecized, can't believe I'm alive to hear you actually scream
Like a horrific, not necessarily specific, "What ever did you mean?"
Breaking it down, sitting on the ground filled with sorrow and empty cares
Like you're ever so blind, never so kind to push me down the stairs
Like a possibility, cease-to-exist hostility that I never hope to hold again
Gosh, you're so malicious, subsequently delicious as I hope to dive on in-
To what I seek, and of what you reek as you sit happily in the center of my soul
Like a vice, or some sort of spice locked tightly in the middle of my throat
Maybe when your television explodes, or your sorry head erodes and you'll be lying flat on a cold concrete floor
I won't stand on top, like it was my job to stand and mind the big red door
We know what this means, no matter how it seems to occur absolutely unclear
Inner compensation, without any sense of content relation, no sense of which direction to steer
Subsequently, much more densely that anything you could ever misconstrue
This situation, utter obligation just left the room alone with you
Poor bastard, now he has to have her change and twist her ways
The end occasionally, not so much unnaturally picked, just up and stays
Good
Because it should
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