He hears those towers teeter outside
and feels teeth grinding in
I AM BECOME DEATH DEATH
How can I escape,
the tyranny of
Please rot in your delusions
I've feigned this tranquil bay
While tempests
Though it's true I get real nervous
A madman I am
I've rolled my window down,
Streets breeze right through my hair,
I
And the world,
is turning - burning,
upon the hill,
your city's thriving
And to think
I once groveled 'neath your steep eaves
And to
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