guilty pleasures twist their faces it's night alone technicolor elves mirror eyes in corners angles maneuvers shapes a girl who hacked your myspace elude the tetrahedron distance self from the swerving clouds the promise of paradise now reflected in the solar billboards your etiquette and your large portions your exploding humility you're keeping your options open contrary to promises you're working in the mine just like the last husband who'd lost his self swallowed up by the corridor's dark percolator it was another language called outerspace it was the twilight zone in wisconsin and we model before the moon our melancholy rags like we're illegal taken up residence in a hostel her face her lips the words were falling to the world incriminating watch the chimneys pipe up out of our way static static i never turned the radio on it must've been from on high
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