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Prehistoric Thinking
I'm looking towards the church walls and the glass is speaking, but its speaking in
different tongues and I'm starting to wonder if I'm actually going crazy from indecision.
What do i do Father, this straight jacket is holding my mind set, it needs to be
released so i can fly like christ's jet, but then my conscience kicks in again
and that indecisive look on my face starts spreading across my whole body
leaving me looking like a broken piece of glass, shattered because all i know
and love was pulled outta some prehistoric monk's ass.
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