“The Sunday Mail Pt. 4” Day 344

In the living nightmares of modern days
Growing and decaying and falling in step
To the beat of a drummer who is making mistakes.
She’s leading the choir, and the choir leads her.
You still waiting for the Sunday mail?
Or are you getting up on your feet
And hitting the dance floor?

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“Don’t Leave Anything Left of Me to Burn” Days 337 – 340

Maybe you think you can make it better
By stomping all over my heart.
Breaking apart the pieces
That you didn’t crush last time
I think you won’t be done
Till there’s nothing left of me to destroy
Maybe you think you can make it better
By not leaving anything left to burn.

(Don’t leave anything left of me to burn.)