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I’ve been ungrateful don’t I know it to be true
I’ve been ungrateful to the symptoms of the flu
oh fire I am sorry
oh water I am sorry
I have grown beyond the son you held aloft
and I am leaving but I promise I’m not lost

I’ve been ungrateful don’t I wish it weren’t so
I’ve been ungrateful to the paint on my front door
oh cinderblock i love you so much
oh spiderweb i love you so much
I am a bridge that ties cathedrals into knots
and every place I go is new blood for the clot
I am so grateful for the friends I have got
I’m in good hands
I’m in good hands
I’m in good hands

I am so tired of this city and its dues
no matter what I wear the wind just cuts right through
i hear people screaming murder in the night
there has to be another way besides just fight or flight
but in the hour of my dissipating hope
when every christmas light’s an arrow through my throat
a hundred arms reach out from all across the globe
I’m in good hands
I’m in good hands
I’m in good hands

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Boy Without God Brooklyn, New York

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