I think in some ways it's easier to say that I am 19 people in one
All speaking and breathing and thinking from the same devices but
Quite naturally the oldest of the bunch
With the biggest lungs and most developed organs
Seems to come forth with such a strong resonance and power
That it breaks the milky surface of discretion
And I think those 19 people could be best described with...
Yet another metaphor
If my soul were to be like anything...
It would be like a deck of cards
Because on any given day the hands of time and synapses behind my eyes
Have but one obligation
To draw one and then let life do what it will
I can be any number of variations of suits or numbers high and low
Even royalty or ace
Any day of the year
Some cards pulled less often than others
But be sure to throw out all the diamonds because I am never all too vane
Cut out any clubs above five because I'm never all too lucky
Wheedle out the middle numbers of the hearts because to be completely honest we all know
I'm either all in
Or all out
And keep only the spades above 10
Because I am always royally screwed and digging myself in
And out
Of holes with every time that I open my mouth or move my hands
At this point keeping a backhoe on constant retainer might just be the most sound decision
I have ever made
Every firing synapse is a gamble these days
Mistakes are inevitable
When the cards are never quite what you expect
And you're left to make due with the few cards you have
The only variable is how big they are
We know this
But without exception
Letting my heart stretch out its legs and pump freely has not ever been
And will never be
One of them
All speaking and breathing and thinking from the same devices but
Quite naturally the oldest of the bunch
With the biggest lungs and most developed organs
Seems to come forth with such a strong resonance and power
That it breaks the milky surface of discretion
And I think those 19 people could be best described with...
Yet another metaphor
If my soul were to be like anything...
It would be like a deck of cards
Because on any given day the hands of time and synapses behind my eyes
Have but one obligation
To draw one and then let life do what it will
I can be any number of variations of suits or numbers high and low
Even royalty or ace
Any day of the year
Some cards pulled less often than others
But be sure to throw out all the diamonds because I am never all too vane
Cut out any clubs above five because I'm never all too lucky
Wheedle out the middle numbers of the hearts because to be completely honest we all know
I'm either all in
Or all out
And keep only the spades above 10
Because I am always royally screwed and digging myself in
And out
Of holes with every time that I open my mouth or move my hands
At this point keeping a backhoe on constant retainer might just be the most sound decision
I have ever made
Every firing synapse is a gamble these days
Mistakes are inevitable
When the cards are never quite what you expect
And you're left to make due with the few cards you have
The only variable is how big they are
We know this
But without exception
Letting my heart stretch out its legs and pump freely has not ever been
And will never be
One of them
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