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Reduced to Teeth

This song is by Finch and appears on the album Say Hello to Sunshine (2005).

Behind a mask,
A man can bask
Only for so long
Before being exposed to the sun
The moon is up, a whisper of,
"Till death do you wrong."
Patients bother a patient doctor.

Plastics itch, and bandages.
The aftermath won't add up to this.
The fever breaks,
And it would take a masochist
To live like this.

Buried my wife today.
Restitution for my sanity.

Chasing demons dressed like me.
Their eyes are not like mine.
Ignorance is divine.
Instincts are reduced to teeth
That bite the hand that feeds.
Fear thy father, love thy martyr.

The verdict of the jury hung
On the weight of what has become.
A starry night, a vengeful wish, "IT DOESN'T HAVE TO BE LIKE THIS!"

Buried my wife today.
Restitution for my sanity.

Buried my wife today.
Restitution for my sanity.

Sound the alarm, and make no mistake about this.

All the king's horses and all the king's men
Have been sent to put this boy back together again.
But somehow,
He must have been predicting the fall.

Caged rats, experiments!
A brain with no oxygen!
Release all the hostages!
You've got to wash your hands of this.

Caged rats, experiments!
A brain with no oxygen!
Release all the hostages!
You've got to wash your hands of this.

This...
This...

The verdict of the jury hung
On the weight of what has become.
A starry night, a vengeful wish, "it doesn't have to be like this!"

Murder!
Murder!
Murder!
Murder!

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