Today I am in that box again, looking at the world pass me by. And yet I can see them all look upon me like a witch, a freak, a force of beauty which makes them all look inside to evaluate morale and values.
My wounds once covered by trench coat and coil, are now seen by all. And the hospital visit that you'll offer me can only be refused for sake of shame. No you have not a prodigal son . . for he's DOWN for the count.
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