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Ayatollah of Coca-Cola
11,718 Posts
Discussion Starter #1
Do you hear those drums and dirges in my brain?
They march down main street in both sun and rain
They toot their horns and stroke their violins
And my eardrums are pierced with needles and pins
Why do all these shadows conspire around?
Why do the lost never seem to be found?
And where can I find a cast-iron shield
For when my skin has been peeled and wounds are not healed?
Behold the sensation charade
Pain is on parade
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