ideas with no tangibility;
ideas with irrelevant supports;
ideas without value;
ideas' witlessness;
ideas' witnesses;



the the the end end end of  of  of
end end end of  of  of  the the the

my   friends have accepted their fate now
i've found   solace  in my misery

and the  light in their eyes isn't there
and some hope  in the   emptiness  here

how the beauty     fades so     softly here
but it  looks like my    soul's failing me

is    a testament    to what we bear
because i still hold onto    my fear

poverty, death in this city life
i met a  hobo     on north union

seventy         hour       weeks in fast food
she looked like me   with  differing     clothes

everyone    here just keeps suffering
i asked her how  she  fell  in the hole

and i    sing   to my violent      tunes
she said you're already  here, you know

and my metal music plays at night
and the skyline's littered with debris
of a simpler, hospitable time
how the hell will i afford to eat


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