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Salt On Everything

Seven thousand day coughSeven thousand day cough. my lungs of an old woman

Of a racist race called man, I'm a word machine

Without enough words to be composed or the worms to decompose

My old song body pretty for the showing. party women with painted faces

Only pretty for their lawyers, everything's illegal

Cause they're pretending to breathe

Better to be sick in the head then sane in the city

Like there's a difference or a reason to stay in the city

Sell the mob to the king, sleep with the dragon

Slay the princess, lay peaceful in the nothing nest

Laughing outside my opinion, permeates and lives forever

The way people live to be remembered, then and only then

See me perfect, more perfect than the sidewalk

More expensive than my shoes, more meaningful then hidden messages

In a quite safe quiet walk

You forget your personality when they birth

In the after-birth, I still fake it like I'm naked

If you got the right sunglasses, I wrote this on cough drops

With the secret conveyer belt in the sidewalk

And the big laughing gaping drooling lipsticked up

And dressed like the lighter side of death

Neon eyes, cold to the touch and there's salt on (pssst)

Salt on everything. salt on... salt on everything

Melt me a princess thought like an open wound

To bleed to sleep, to plead to work, to heal no loyalty

To things that don't keep clean

Weather my old tongue or old tone

To the man making all the new shadow puppets

I like your style more worthwhile then rubbish

A big break for bad taste acting like faith is a face

A dumpster man singing a dumpster song of redemption

Share the broken note, it's the only note

People here got thick skin to hold the nothing in

There's salt on everything. salt on everything. Salt on everything

But I put it on nothingLick your merry lips off and hum it all in a bowling alley

Headaches and hogwash going on in my ears dizzy, dizzy infected of worry

It's never my body, my friends, or my brain

Or my fault to be stranded in a utopian wonderland

For three minutes I could sit still and stare at the wall and let it (die)

This is my favorite mini-series, well-written, under-funded when it all dulls

Never decaffeinated dream and I love a big bleeding heart song we can all learn

Some days we almost feel alive and most days we forget to live

For some reason, that's all I can bring myself to say and

You know what on everything, everything

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