| spending the best years of a childhood horizontal on the floorlike a bobsled minus the teamwork and the televised supportand nothing sounds appealingsomeone retired on a percentage of the tithe that paved these roadsthey lead to nowhere but they're still gridlocked, made of | |
| Solomon's pure goldbeneath the door frame waiting for earthquakes after the rapture comes and goesthe saints went marching, the trumpets salving, the chosen ones are phoning a goaland nothing sounds appealing |
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