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When you gaze into your polished metal plates |
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You picture the face of a man who longs to see his soul |
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But claws are claws |
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Whether sharpened or painted or blunted |
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From hours of bounding |
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One-track-minded, through the snow |
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I have arrived |
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An exile too inferior for your highness to fight |
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Armored |
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Not humored |
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And prepared to seize your life |
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The prisoner I came to rescue sits down to watch the fight |
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With tears in her eyes |
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Who knew a tongue could do so much harm |
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Lying in one's mouth |
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Dancing to music that wasn't really there |
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Muttering about moments we never even shared |
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Your twisted jaw moves |
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But you've lost all sound |
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How soon till your breath runs out |
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When the others gaze into your polished eyes |
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As glassy as the doll's you hold to represent your soul |
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They witness the face of an animal acting like a man |
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In their confusion, you dressed them in sashes and perfume |
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But the stench seeps through |
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I long to scream |
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My country |
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This is not how we were supposed to live |
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And with each mortifying blow |
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I'm fading rapidly |
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Get up |
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I hear that faithful onlooker plead |
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She won't insult me by looking away |
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When I start to bleed |
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Who knew a tongue could do so much harm |
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Lying in one's mouth |
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Dancing to music that wasn't really there |
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Muttering about moments we never even shared |
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Your twisted jaw moves |
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But you've lost all sound |
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How soon till your breath runs out |
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One leap |
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One strike |
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And the metal snaps away from your face |
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That chattering jaw comes unhinged |
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And your insincere tongue hangs down from your neck |
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I plunge through the ribs and grasp the steaming |
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Slippery heart |
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It slides down my throat and I am king again |
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Tear down these garish walls and let the prisoners free |
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Throw their gaudy stones out to the sea |
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Rip these dolls limb from limb |
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Claws proudly unsheathed |
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Our souls were never meant to be seen |