The DJ functions like love
To spread these petals difference
To see we don’t sing too sweetly
The stench of common sense
Wasted on your lips
Kissing me into which future
Like an ark of horns I
Haven’t heard
Because I can’t, I cant
With ears blown off
With an archive like
The tides are rising too
Into song and all those little islands they will
Only seem to rise to it, drowned
These waves like a wall of sound
This is the remix of a disaster hymn
I made when no one could hum immune
Or even probably hear me
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