I'm bad luck, because everyone drifts away, and all roads lead to Satan's house.
I remember when all the trouble started, but everything feels so right now.
Lady of the cusp between spring and summer.
And I've become the means of a documentary about this strange reality.
Where are we?
I have a feeling that being high gives us less control of destiny.
Hold your tongue, they're starting to get it.
Forgotten things from long ago, I really wish I didn't know.
Is it the sane or devious one this time?
It's all about the ebb and flow.
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