the water dripping from a tap
the clocks ticking in the hall
talking codes to each other
in the jittery alien drawl
there is a song in this silence
a melody crushed and bruised
by the repetition ad-infinitum
never heard, yet over used
some talk of angels and mermaids
drowning just to hear their songs
some are stuck in their own heads
sifting rights from the wrongs
there is no pride in acceptance
of what is and what's meant to be
for who knows of tomorrow
or if we'll still be here to see
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