Steamy Wound

The ground Oh the ground
We are all floating around
And things you can see in it
That no one else had found
And how the time can hold us down
We have no place
And in that we find our escape
The dirt oh the dirt
How it blankets this earth
And the things buried in it that can give us self-worth
And the night can hold a tune
And hold it swell
And in the end will go to hell



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