Man, I'd kill again to be a hundred and ten
To take back those years from the battering ram
And
Lean into when I could take care of myself
When I still had my friends and a reservation in Hell
Now I'm still here and the ground is all gone
Sympathy packed up and set a sign on its lawn
On
The days that are longer than the lines on my face,
I play with the letters that used to fall into place
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