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Poison Tree

The steam above the water rises through the air.

All I wants to touch it; feel it on my skin.

Follow in it's motion; travel where it's beenI'm a little man in a little town.

It's a little cold; I'm a little down.

I get a little angry a little bit each day.

A little while longer we'll dig a little grave.The stitches of my pocket fray upon the seam.

My truest secrets spilled over my heart beat.

A frail little drop of the poison tree.I'm a little man in a little town.

It's a little cold and I'm a little down.

I get a little angry a little bit each day.

A little while longer we'll dig a little grave.

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