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Staring at the Ceiling
I smiled before I died in the street
Stuck underneath his truck for a couple of weeks
Staining the ground with the drip from my mouth
It pools and dries before I ask you about this lack of sleep I get most nights
Stuck here like my friend in that van
Just tear off my limbs
I think you know where I am
You say you know where I am
Will you pull me up?
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