New, what do you own the world?
How do you own disorder, disorder,
Now, somewhere between the sacred silence,
Sacred silence and sleep,
Somewhere, between the sacred silence and sleep,
Disorder, disorder, disorder.
More wood for their fires, loud neighbors,
Flashlight reveries caught in the headlights of a truck,
Eating seeds as a past time activity,
The toxicity of our city, of our city
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