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Lost It

dear reader,
i'm just not myself
i'm betrayed and oh so weak
no control, oh i can't speak
losing touch of the finer things
moody blues answer telephone rings
slipping into a seductive coma
and then it's taken
by this sweet aroma
of a girl without her fingertips
she's lost her mind
her moral slips
it's one of those friend situations
perfectly oblivious
to finer instigations
my home is not a house
but when a house becomes a home
it takes the family by surprise
and all our hopes are gone
a mother tends her flock
like a poor man gathering razors
digging at his empty body
like starless sky gazers
all these thoughts flow freely
and i guess i never cared
but for once i'd like to stop this writing
i've been so unprepared
jotting words and scribbling notes
and that's just how this story goes
my brain? well that's a funny story
i think i've lost it now
when voices claim their territories
i think i've lost it now
i'm pretty sure i've lost it

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