Slow Buildings poison condition

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Everybody’s got a hungry heart
But nobody ever knows when it’ll start
And I can take what you send my way
But this deep, black hole will make an Atheist pray
And I don’t want to realize
That my own blood won’t sympathize
I’ve had a hundred or more consultations
I can’t get closer to an explanation
I’ve got a poison condition
This stabbing in my head
I’ve got an open infection
I could be dead
Everybody’s got the will to take
But nobody knows quite where it’ll break
And I can see what I mean to them
A handshake, a buck, and a “hey, good luck”
Charm and beauty, and simple joys
I can’t feel them
I don’t know why
Stolen evenings, laced with doubt
Because my own body won’t help me out
And where are the magical medications?
To deal with these vanishing expectations
I’ve got a poison condition
This stabbing in my head
I’ve got an open infection
I could be dead
And everybody should know
Everybody should know
Everybody should know
Everybody should know
Charm and beauty, and simple joys
I can see them getting further
Caring voices, all turned to noise
I can’t feel them
I don’t know why
I’ve got a poison condition
This stabbing in my head
I’ve got an open infection
I could be dead

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