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Said some things poetically,

About the things you’ve done to me,

But deep as I dig in this earth,

My feet get covered up with dirt.


My feet are covered up with dirt,

I’ll cut you if you say a word,

I’m the one who holds the knife,

My need for victory overripe.


Prop me righteous on a box,

On one hand count the fights I’ve lost,

Thank God I tore the mirrors down,

I’d turn to salt if I looked now.


Truth catalyses all my fears,

I haven’t watched the news for years,

So why did I dig in this ground,

I’m not sure I like what I’ve found.

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