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But then it passed, as all things do

My less than skin dressed in these works
Damn your God, you said.

Bris milah of the tongue
who will wash the pride off that?


We've faced each other hole to hole
now play along

I'm not dry from anger behind the wall
our lands are not cascading.


The tail of the day is blinding
there is a never-ending death in the room.

Damn my God well then
damn yours too.