I hunt down whatever the seven deadly sins can feed me.
I like to spice up the horror
And at the same time have a guarantee.
As a child I prayed to saints to help me find things
like socks and keys
and to protect me from adults who went flying off the handle
Now it's just automatic
I pop open Pandora's Box and light another candle
I'm addicted to magic
Logic delegated to a supporting role in a drawn out exegesis
I've developed my own cold reasoning to help me get my way
and take a pass on the tragic
I try to stay fit cuz I heard you have to jump an abyss
I defrost miracles at night
to prepare them for the next day.
When I light the match and the miracles ignite
I say what Dirty Harry never got to say.
I say I want no tricks but the treat of truth, but I've got a bigger appetite
growling in the solenoid switch in my brain .
It's always idling.
Waiting to be used for the the get-a-way into the giddy heart of
a disrobed America ,
and there have a peek at freedom sweet and on the upswing.
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