Back in your arms again, what will it do.
There in your selfish eyes, drowned in your pool.
Get back in your car again, drive somewhere new.
Far away from here where everyone misses you.
Crawl back into your bed,
holding onto every thing that your mother said.
Was this worth it?
49 miles per hour is a church.
(49 miles per hour is a church. So take your communion and say your prayers. Let it wash over flesh and bone. Take it now. Let it die.)
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