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End of Line
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I’m on the red line Ricocheted bullet train - white hot projectile Still asleep as we blur by Stirred by the end of line warnings, sayonara's, next times The city pulled into frame fast Like the opening scene of a silver screen classic And nostalgia comes slithering back With disgust and desire coiled in the same bag Where the buildings all twist downward at nightfall You’ll feel a drop as the clouds start a dialogue Where thunder’s more common than silencе An idea’s more rare than round shards of light bulbs Thеn we glide underneath buzzing power lines Where the billboards say you’re running out of time And the targeting systems That argue within every drone is heard with stunning sound design Where the guides know the answers but they won’t tell you And rogue spies stab each other in their hotel rooms Where the bars serve lost souls, as their old selves snooze In the dirt with a thirst that they won’t quench soon or ever And the goons always move together Where the feedback’s looping itself in a noose And my train rolls through the nether Past a rainbow’s end that is melting to ooze
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