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Prehistoric Thinking
I'm looking towards the church walls and the glass is speaking, but its speaking in
 different tongues and I'm starting to wonder if I'm actually going crazy from indecision.
 What do i do Father, this straight jacket is holding my mind set, it needs to be 
 released so i can fly like christ's jet, but then my conscience kicks in again
 and that indecisive look on my face starts spreading across my whole body
 leaving me looking like a broken piece of glass, shattered because all i know 
 and love was pulled outta some prehistoric monk's ass.
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