Heatstroke, I'm looking at your pictures
From new to old
As you're becoming less into yourself
And more into the world
It's an elephant graveyard
And that was 2004
And you were in terrible trouble
Now that's gone, gone, gone
At first worse things are happening
And the weeks are just counting down
You think that you'll be different then
And you are, but how?
And each year you think the next
One is the future and then you're there
A new result you can't recall
Or just avoid like a private number
And Europe's fucked probably
It seems insane
My friend's art needs guarding
End of days
I think I've never been better
I'm at the top of my game
I'm living it up for TV dust
And disassemble, you've got to disassemble that stuff
Now there's more light coming from my screen
Than light from outside
I see myself as if from the street
And I turn on the light
And I look at old emails
I have forgotten which
But why am I telling you this?
You are not even here
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