Great Expectorations

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the bell tolls
to hear itself toll
automatic pragmatic
you’ll always be a tot
unless you walk
across the coals
you’ll always be a robot
as long as you live in a world
without a soul

blister yourself a man
tie the knot that hangs your youth
calloused motherf**king hands
grip the grating of a cold confession booth

old passed the years
years passed the old
told as you do
do as you’re told
I dream of the times I had air
inside this overnight sleeper hold
if you can’t move or think
you can’t break the mold

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