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lirik lagu a warm recollection – bad history month

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when i’m in bed with you i don’t give a sh*t
about brushing my t**th
i don’t give a f*ck about waking up for work
or about getting enough sleep
f*cking hard on my soft bed
i feel an intimate connection to the dead
countless, unknown people who came before me
my entire ancient family tree, back to the trees
picturing the stone, and the embers of the fire in the cave
and the straw mats and the feather beds
of the dead kings and the dead slaves
and then thе car seats, and the couches
and all thе centuries of s*x with no protection
my body fills up with the wonderful feeling
of escaping rejection
and this warm recollection of ancestral affection, uh huh…

somewhere in the deep unwritten future
rich people overcome death
they spend their endless lives time traveling backward
just to watch us have s*x
they don’t have bodies anymore
breathing starts seeming like a chore
after a few thousand years
there’s not much excitement in a life without fear of death
so they wish they were us:
bumbling through selfish lives and selflessly returning to dust
and having good reasons to love and to hate
and to hope and create
and to l*st
there’s even less meaning
in a life without rust

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