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I had a friend who kept a candle in his pocket, He used to touch it when the wind was blowing high, I guess it made him feel like he could buck the system And when it flickered out we laid him down to die,
Turn on the light, Turn on a million blinding brilliant white incendiary lights, (yeah) A beacon in the night, I’ll burn relentlessly until my juice runs dry, (yeah)
I’ll construct a rack of tempered beams and trusses And equip it with a million tiny suns, I’ll install upon the room of my compartment And place tinfoil on my floor and on my walls then i’ll
Turn on the light, Turn on a million blinding brilliant white incendiary lights, (yeah) A beacon in the night, I’ll burn relentlessly until my juice runs dry,
And I’ll burn like a roman fucking candle Burn like a chasm in the night Burn for a miniscule duration, Ecstatic immolation, incorrigible delight
Read more lyrics about / on: friend, yeah, night, lighting, dying
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