SPIRIT OF THE BEEHIVE — Time to Scratch Them All

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In a body of excess I am in debt
Winter morning was a black eyed little kid
Falling into a pit
I can handle any part of being sick
But I can’t drag another to the depths
I’m too far in

That’s enough
I’m done talking
That’s enough

Time to scratch them all
Gentle cross the breeze

Can’t think of anything that’s worth it to mention
Little kid took his green eyes out and replaced them
Just to see what it would mean