The math of recent years
Has brought plenty tears
Without my own roof over the head
And another's land for bed
My land and money both going
Will leave me nothing before dying...
...None of it was ever mine,
Yet, the habits make me whine!
For the love of body,
Created off the shoddy
Craving to be pleasured
While the pains are assured...
...Enough of the burden
Time to do the undone
To untie the thin thread
And let go the passion of the dead
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