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No Brakes
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Pigeon Pit
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April blooming, white jasmine spills over On to the worn out floral pattern couch Where I have been waiting Hey, kid, I think our vessel is sinking under the weight of our dark as black coffee spiked With cheap whiskey thinking I stand up at the front of your bed pull down the sleeves on my beat up black and white wool sweater squeezing the little red marks on my wrist where I've made some mistakes Minds blank and limbs bruised Stomachs full of black coffee and plantains In the thick smoky fog of your bedsheets We have dug our graves Seattle is just around the corner I feel excited and nervous And a little bit cornered We shave each others' heads to Escape the heat and take to the streets And we rise in the late morning on New Year‘s Day to our feast of leftovers and Falling back to sleep in the sun in your front yard I think about how long it's been since I've felt so full and safe and warm And I ride downtown on my bike all the same With my headphone in — eyehategod — And no brakes Days like these got me smiling so hard It hurts my face; I'm going to wake up tomorrow , whatever it takes
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