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Spudnik

de Surgical Meth Machine

It takes a trained eye
To notice certain discrepancies
After my resurrection

I can't no longer exist without
An instead-heart device beating inside
My new temple-chest

The rest of the mortals
Will never understand
Images encountering uncontrollable
Linear existence of my kind

New strange liquid runs
Through my veins

It's easy for the others
To misunderstand
The transformation
Which lies before them
It's time to make stronger
The power of their beliefs

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