The sun comes up with promise
And my eyes burn open wide
And the sting compounds the torture
From the vacant hole inside
My conscious recollection
Of the past events all seem
There's no one here to listen
There's always room for more
They pretend to give you your say
Before they slam the door
There's very little patience
There's just your constant puzzlement
For what you're guilty of
From such a familiar place
I've come to terms and work
In this ribald downtrodden state
That keeps me stationed here
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