under critical acclaim
it's all the same
applause is still untrue
it's such a shame
although we all need silence
it's not provided here
it makes one want to give in
nowhere to find a tear
conflict clear and dangerous
traffic of the mind
the clutter is contagious
not finding any sign
of what went wrong
or whom to blame
run screaming
from the house
the stomach's tied
in little nots
the head
does summersalts
don't dismay
the end is near
brother is much
wiser
too bad
adjustments
can be made
lack of all surprises
inner conflict fights the flu
inner conflict wins
how can all things be equal
when nothing is really the same?
be independent
be told what to do
it's an awful seminar
to derail
confronation
just don't do it
truth you hide to death
to be finished . . . . .
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