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The Hand, The Furnace, The Straight Face

Quiet, it's 4 A.M.

I was sound asleep

Trying to hunt the sheep

There is a choice within a voice

Lurking somewhere between

Hidden parts and facial scars

And remnants of the deepest needs

I am convinced in sleeplessness

That we need some source of rest

Following with frequency

Won't become a place to lay our heads

I've searched and tried

And tumbled in the midst

I've swallowed pride and nullified

What's left of innocence

Reparations won't be made

We'll set a precedent

Never too late to recreate

So here's your evidence

Am I getting through?

Is this loud enough?

Any means by all extremes

This feeling follows action

You can take my worst mistakes

And use them for excuses

You can try to realize

This vessel's by itself is worthless

I've searched and tried

And tumbled in the midst

I've swallowed pride and nullified

What's left of innocence

Reparations won't be made

We'll set a precedent

Never too late to recreate

So here's your evidence

The hand, the furnace, the straight face

The hand, the furnace, the straight face

(The hand, the furnace)

I've searched and tried

(The straight face)

And tumbled in the midst

(The hand, the furnace)

I've searched and tried

(The straight face)

And tumbled in the midst

I've searched and tried

And tumbled in the midst

I've swallowed pride and nullified

What's left of innocence

Reparations won't be made

We'll set a precedent

Never too late to recreate

So here's your evidence

(The hand, the furnace)

I've searched and tried

(The straight face)

And tumbled in the midst

(The hand, the furnace)

I've searched and tried

(The straight face)

And tumbled in the midst

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