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When kept we wallow in exposure, in search for a perfect state, desperately trying to seize every moment in which we can ignore our safety's slow decline. Blurred lines form my bedroom ceiling. It's something that I can't constrain. My scent's the only thing I sense. I chose to be the pariah. They said: "You can't put yourself to an early grave." But they refuse to see where I stand, surrounded by cold blood and we still believe that we're heaven sent. Desperately searching for every moment in which I can ignore my safety's slow decline. Don't want to die as a voice on the phone. Blurred lines form my bedroom ceiling and it won't change for the better.

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from The Fine Line, released September 29, 2014

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Casually Dressed Freiburg, Germany

Sad riffy rock from Freiburg, Germany.

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