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Drug that is I
The fields are full with mushrooms and poppies
such dreams are infrequent, marred, blurred
hallucinations aplenty, twisted burnt copies
cloned and infected, completely obsurd
the flesh twists in agony, blood filled itches
such fever filled rapture in one glass dream
to the brim with images, visions in riches
my body, a furnace, in this bottomless scheme
Help me out, of this bottles bottom
before I turn old, shattered, forgotten...
