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lyrics
spines are the brittle sticks we break off of branches to start a fire / send out a SOS and let 'em know when they get here we don't need to be saved / but we will take their necessities / cutting off the hands they use to pray because we heard more hands make lighter work / thousands of digits stored in glass jars, yeah they might look pretty, but the work is just as hard - just as dirty / thousands of bodies - piles on top of piles and it's never ending / piles on top of piles and it's never ending / and if you stare at them long enough it is as if they're moving and talking / plotting against you / drown out the eyes and squeeze out every ounce of guilt like a wet towel hanging up to dry in a thunderstorm / "the end will justify the means" is my only lullaby and without it i would surely die / next to my morals is where the corpses lie.