questions circle like vultures but I’m not running away I’m
running towards I changed my face to fit the frame you could say I’m in disguise I don’t forget the things I’ve done man, I nearly choked on them but I got over it and now I’m on the gravy train but I had to give it up you know what I mean? I had to give it up pack it in and snuff it out no
embers left to fan but there are
questions always questions I’m not afraid of questions I
have one for you what the fuck do you
want? you don’t have to answer you might not know the answer some questions can’t be answered and some answers can’t be questioned is love
always the answer? or is love sometimes
the question? I suppose it makes no
difference to me because
I keep my own secrets and bear my stripes
without complaint
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