Divine Punchline

From the machine I'm a nervous wreck
I dove face first into this 
By invoking the mundane i know not what to expect
Holy water blessings and the priest of piss... 

I've used the sins of circulation 
And shot my self to heaven, abused 
Elated state, and perverse alleviation 
The standard structure only leaves me confused 

By giving me what the fuck is mine
This only gets worse with each occurring time
How far can we go before we cross the line? 
This driven by what I feel inside... 

All notions of decency have died 
And with it separation from the animals
Compelled to break off from the implied Concrete connotations, barely tangible 

An exaggerated emptiness 
That is a suicidal cliche 
Warm is the apathy of heartlessness 
A home in places far away 

A hole for graces that have died today Buried faces in the masks, sorrow hides this day 
Comedy so divine, its humour is a tragedy Becoming all in mine, falling short of majesty

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