On Broken Wings Six Hundred Cubic Centimeters Lyrics:
the sound of a
primate. the offensive
of attempting
to create illusions
with goals of
appearing larger to
an enemy. but can
you dance like ingrid cold?
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my arm hair stands
on end. i've got
some questions,
and i want them answered.
am i nothing more than
an upright ape?
built in defenses,
heartbeat increases
an ape with shame,
and an ego to match
Lyrics: Six Hundred Cubic Centimeters, On Broken Wings [end]