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You were an urn made of candlewax you were drying out, flame burning out as the droplets started to solidify and remain as blemishes against your otherwise perfectly smooth wax skin. 1, 2, 3, 4, maybe 5 flaws too many for you, you knew the only way to get rid of them was by letting your candle burn brighter and longer than ever before, and so you did, and here you are, flawless, but you no longer exist.

Little birds eating corpses,
raven thoughts fly in from the south,
and I am lost in the driver's seat
fly like a moth into the fire of my headlights
and burn.
Little birds, flying southbound
winter winds cut through my eagle's nest
skeletons once ripe with flesh and blood
call for light only you can shine upon them
you could shine

but the last time that you called me your flame was burnt out.

My life in the wax museum,
the shallow melt away
when you let your candle burn
and what is left will return
till we're ashes in an urn

close your eyes
it's no surprise
we've been runnin on nothin
and now we've died
in my deepest sleep
flames crawl all over me
don't be surprised
everyday we die

little angels birthed from mud
we were ripe with flesh and blood
we had learned to melt in hell
we'll lose our shells

we're ashes in an urn (your flame was burnt out)
let that fire burn (until it burns out)
what is left will return (melting in hell)
you could shine upon them (until you burn out)


from No Mo Run, released October 11, 2016


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