My great burdens rest on the crests of my eyes.
They dangle from nylon,
On needles they're tied.
Always getting, never by,
But nonetheless, I'm getting by,
I'm motionless on my worst sides.
Sleep is a matter of sealing a suture.
We get lost in the dream
With dreams lost in the future.
And direction and karma will push me around,
But I've found my importance,
I've found stable ground.
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