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I tried it all
but there’s no use

descended lying muddy
tortured bones
to think I could
to think of stones

that’s what I should
but never could I loose
the smell of flesh
burned by that bomb

nor will I ever try
to trust a truth
or feel the luck
of innocence again

to gain back my soul
or kill the ones
without control

An observation on mind and body functions during times of crisis.

[Tapes available on Bandcamp]