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Habitual Grind
The white picket fences of my last jail
Lay present in my mind
And yet here i hide under this veil
From something i've left behind
Temptations absorb my better judgement
I have no self control
Buried deep in this warm cement
I keep playing my role
I've returned to my place under the ice
Excluding all common sense
However many times i roll the dice
I Can't avoid this pretense
