What Story Down There Awaits Its End?
The Age Of Rockets
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A steady hand at dooms blank stare
with voices calling you back to bed.
Delancey Street trembles beneath
as you rise to meet the day.
It's a long night wide awake
with work in the morning and I'm
saving each word from certain death.
Always look right, always turn left
and I'm up to meet you there.
Cat got your tongue and left the rest,
got chased around like marionettes,
and I'm up to meet you there.
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