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All the sucked thumbs and held skirts |
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And blankets so secure |
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They block out the sweep of |
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The floodlights that could free them from |
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The darkness that surrounds them |
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The demons that keep hounding them |
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And gouge their eyes |
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Until all they can see |
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Are rigid dichotomies |
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Of the sacred and the profane |
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Salvation or shame, with fuck-all in between |
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The human impulse to explain |
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Hijacked, a controlled flight into terrain |
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To ensure no passenger ever makes |
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Any connection between the proscription of mystery and their malaise |
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Tidy pairings of inverse binaries |
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We all seek meaning in our lives |
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But when every shadow of doubt is denied |
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The sanctification of hatred thrives |
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On every sucked thumb and held skirt |
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And blanket so secure |
|
They block out the sweep of |
|
The floodlights that could free us from |
|
The darkness that surrounds us |
|
The demons that keep hounding us |
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We put out our own eyes |
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And reproach the blind |