Again, alive. No good. No good cursing your eyes their function. That your heart survived another night less luck, more, stubborn rebuke to the revisionist thread of airbrushed policy. Walk, when the whistle blows, as the shift changes from red to murder and gather us all around the dead bag, dog shit bats hanging in the sidings. Too much to see with closed eyes picking out the sighs of a crucifor...

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