empty black box music
to my empty mood
beat pulsing through my limbs
but I cannot breathe it in
modern art poetry
flashing images at my brain
they stagnate at my eyes
my mind cannot take it in
but then Muse sings stars to my blood
this one does contain a sting
it's not empty I can breathe it
I feel my nerves wake up
my cheeks warm up
I'm falling into music
my head goes light
but commercials break the spell
it's MTV after all
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Eat jazz, drink sunshine, listen to honey, talk to tea
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