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Why the fuck do I even look? 

Ain’t nobody there.

Just turn into the dark. 

Won’t nobody care.

I’m bleeding out my scar,

metaphorically my heart.

To which it rhymes, rhythms, beats,

Go to the head, hands, feet.

I could never tell you how I felt on the inside.

It wouldn’t make sense, no matter how hard I would try.

I almost once said, bein dead was good.

Cause at least then you wouldn’t have to deal

with the pain of living life through.

He said getting knocked down 7 times was nothing,

and that I should brush it off,

get up 8 and be somethin. 

But here I’m lying down thinking maybe it’s my end.

I don’t think anything can bring me back from the dead.

For the Republic Part II

"It’s better on my own, things are simpler that way." Yeah. Each ping needs to be quieted the way you would hush a puppy. Brass casings flushed red hot. Nothing is ever worth it until you decide it is. Man then you learn, you learn what roads to take. The difficult short ones or the easy long roads. From sunrise to sunset. Then theres the old world, I miss most of all.


You distance yourself to protect them. Cause you really weren’t feeling 100%, but you were giving 110% anyway. I’m a derogatory term and I am used that way. No one will ever truly understand, because they won’t, and they shouldn’t. 

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