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Swimming Through Stone |
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I have heard about this |
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About walking into rooms |
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And flooring covered with snakeskins |
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Oh snakesins how i wanna crawl back in |
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To them like sleeping bags |
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And i need things like i need paper thin fins |
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How i envy the herrings |
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Always on their way |
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In easy flashes |
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Tiny lightnings |
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Glinting |
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Like sparks when wolves |
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Strike flint |
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While i feel like i am swimming through stone |
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So i'll hold my brain out of the water |
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As i swim my remains back to him |
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Cause the last thing that i need is a wet brain |
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During the hurricane |
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So i'll rest my weary head |
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Between the eagrets beak |
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So i can hear you sing |
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The salmon eggs to sleep |
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With the songs of the wild |
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I thought the coast was clear |
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I thought the coast was clear |
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But i'm wading through dead skeeters |
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Through wriggling larva |
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Through blood suckers |
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And i've never sucked blood before this |
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And i've never sucked blood before this |
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I've never sucked blood before this |
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And i knew better |
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But i walked right in again |
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And there is that floor all covered |
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With owl pellets |
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I examine the tiny bits |
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In wonder and decay |
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All mystified |
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At the little skeletal |
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Glories |
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I wonder what went on in the rabbits hole |
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And how these tiny things cannot seem to escape |
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Until we are left with snakeskin |
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And matted fur |
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Hair thin |
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Oh |