How much can you afford to fold it down, twist it up, and rip it out
It's always just another set, another face
Just another sliding door to the same old place you can't justify
Leaving light
Swift side down and out
Signs blown out by the road
Gleaming over sons of old
Neon cracking through the asphalt, like a fucking leech
Drawn out, ripped down
It's always another affront
How much can you afford to fold it down, twist it up, and rip it out
It's always just another set, another face
Just another sliding door to the same old place you can't justify
Left out on the counter
Swift smoke and tipped ash
Rest down easy sink, into cracked leather
Sweat pools down and around your crooked brow
Feet up and eyes back
And your grave's creeping shadow
In a fire fight, with my own command
Never stopping, how can I lift a finger
When I can't look away
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