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The Vultures
The vultures are waiting for the night.... Waiting for the sun to die...
They will find me in my darkest hour and pick my bones dry...
I rock in my painted corner, humming a little song...
I dwell on my disease, the one I've dwelled on for too long...
My castle has grown smaller as I lie awake in wait...
My dreams have become fewer, as ever closer comes my fate...
Now's the time for prayer, as the tears fall from my eyes...
They look at me and squawk, as they plummet from the skies...
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