What the f to do when your blue
And your friends arent true
All this lava inside
Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide
Nowhere to turn,
Alone to burn
Not even endorphins kick in
To help lift up your chin
Still, you keep movin' the machine
To top it off, anyway,
Outside a gris day
Reflecting decay
You can cry, you can try
And hope to death, not to die.
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