You sit around with dying parents
Who is talking to you?
No one
They just say it's heir apparents
Who take the glory from you
Affidavits , Cindy Crawfords
Executors of the will
Let me sleep
I'm slipping northwards
Ever rolling hill
Charge me up
And roll me backwards
I don't want this life no more
I've got nothing
From talking parrots
Who mutter negligible things and swore
They knew me before the years had passed us
And wiped the memory
Like a scar
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