You know if I have a cringy elph bit of music poetry that holds me beyond any of your words can save its Townes Van Zandt's dead eyed sorrow. None of you can convince me this isn't the end of my soul and I'm not even interested in your arguments cause I know they're all desperate and hollow.
Quote:
Your back ain't strong enough
For burdens doublefold
They'd crush you down
Down into nothin'
Being born is going blind
And buying down a thousand times
To echoes strung
On pure temptation
Sorrow and solitude
These are the precious things
And the only words
That are worth rememberin'
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