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She’s a golden idol.
She’s a sacred cow.
There is no cheaper mistress,
But you’ll pay anyhow.
And is it really like a feeling made electric?
Is it really like a fire inside your soul?
Or are you only waiting for a single moment—
Don’t you know you won’t be getting out of this one whole?
She peels poisoned apples—
That’s it, open wide—
All your decaying Eden,
For a taste of cyanide.
And is it really like the summit of the mountain?
Is it really like you’ve finally arrived?
Or are you only waiting for the very first time—
Don’t you know you won’t be getting out of this alive?
Crawling like an insect—
Empty as a hole.
Nothing left to show for
Everything you stole.
And is it really like the end for all beginnings?
Is it really like a blazing apogee?
Or have you waited all your life for this one moment,
Just to watch it all subside into the sea?
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