---

This fetish to foil you
Is like a trophy worn
But nothing binds me
To you
Like free will

Decipher this
First of sequences
And get out of the dream
I'm waiting
To phase out of silent stasis
Shed my form
And push into the machine

This grip that
You got on me
Is like a trip that
Never ends
But nothing binds me
To you
Like free will

Wounds in the age of healing
Where we stand
Defines the fulcrum

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