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A Murder a Day in Charm City

When I wake up I pull a red veil over my eyes and put my faith in coffee and smokes to inspire.
It's hard to paint my face with positive grace when it's been beaten in by routine,
when watching clocks is making my eyes bleed, when it feels like my eternal soul is eternally fucked.
The problem's mine, but I just can't seem to move past it.
I'd run faster, but I'm choking on the waste, by-products of urban decay.
This song is mine, but I can't breathe deep to sing louder
'cause I'm clouded in a thicker smoke today that's only getting worse with age...
and I'm afraid that one more stagnant year will deafen me to the sound of this electric air.

When I come home I take a look in the mirror and realize I'm the living ghost that I despise,
walking through the days like they've already passed... another work day disappeared, another bottle drained in fear.
I'm on the floor waiting for another today. We're all already dying. We're all already dead.

Dead! Dead! Dead!