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It's just a temporary slide back in the abyss
I should've seen it coming from miles away
They've been armed in a sacred cult structure
Shielding me of my oblescent dagger
There was a purpose upon the horizon
A destination
Tangible and fragrant
And I march to ban you
And I march to ban you
And I march with a thousand
It's not surprising I should find myself flailing
Having cross a bridge of certainly
Back behind enemy lines with no work till Tuesday
I didn't even *** with the temptation
Got down with little to do
I welcomed old habits like a long lost friend
To spite you
Ashore 'bout a week in Venice
Giving themselves up to the strengths of the menacing darkness
The shrieking howls light or grey and feeble
The sulky trees sad dropping their knees in defeat
The temperature falls
There's a big light switch on
And from time to time
Pharos from the cats