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My spirit lives in a well, in a place
which nobody knows
throw a coin in it for a wish and good luck,
on the journey home,
because heaven is below your feet,
and daimons live in the sky,
take a piss in it, and know the arabian
version ain't nice.
You can claw at me and kill this vessel,
but know my essence,
it travels in the streams below the earth,
and rises in elsewhere,
the spark in the qlippoths which is passed on
to those who know,
a lit torch in places you don't want to see
the stone in the sword.
Ye, never play dice with fate, faustian
fates are sealed.
The problem most people have is,
they can't sling it,
machiavellian angles, opportunistic,
when it's courtesy
and bein' a gentleman to the people
simply livin'
Howlin' at the moon, I see their game
worshippin' her in the sky,
they're beautifull too, but i'm not you,
I came from the waters
to give you a heads up, you can't eat
and devour the earth,
kindness, a lovin' home and memories
that's all you need.
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