I’ve got rockets in my pockets my
fingers are black with soot I have a
full load on and I’m taking a dive with
a head full of feathers I get so high it’s obscene when I get my shit together and I get my shit together more often than I should
others might turn to god but I turned to ashes I
tweaked my mind against babylon’s machinery
this
is the secret of happiness disputed through the ages in a
simple benediction that
ancient curse of the orient the fabled pipe of peace
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