And I will disappear like bliss
where the soul doesn't need me
hiding in the random and mundane
cauldron of mighty power
She's on the phone
he keeps his foot on the gas
put a quarter in the machine
engine guns the blast
Plastic and glass
no more milk
here in the middle of the new song
Beauty of the field
orb floaters flitting away
white lines of power
always seem to be saying
Take off another mask
the full moon is here
And I will disappear like bliss
where the soul doesn't need me
hiding in the random and mundane
cauldron of power's mighty seed
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