Your top and bottom teeth
Singing slowly in your sleep
Waves breaking on the long black beach
Holding gently the things that stick to your palms
Holding tightly the things that refuse to stay still
I've always had a harem of demons in the back room
Always had a whiskey-strong will
Never have I ever had a never like this
Never again, never before, never stretched out around us
The numbers turn to nonsense
In a wonderland of whispers
351 days until I pose for all the pictures
All 351 lined up to be flogged into permanence
No one trained us for this
Turn up the volume and sleep turned into this
Turn into the veil and quietly burn in the furnace
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