Ghostlimb
ardor
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It is a question of physiology
And the combination of manâs most valuable trait
A judicious sense of what not to believe
But I read real hard with no answer to find
And all satire aside it nagged at me
If an unexamined life is not worth living
Then iâve forged my weight in gold with grief
How else could one explain the dissipation of a mortal coil unleashed
Than the breath of sweat that finite warmth
That iâve seen at work from the head to the feet
But I couldnât give a fuck what they want me to believe
And when we're brought to the brink
And we let go of that need
It is nothing but heat
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