"Just a single prescription for addiction.
Alas but no my dear, no physical affliction,
It's my soul you see, its melting through my ribs."
"Emotional traumas, my love?" you query.
"O no my dear, I am always somewhat bleary;
In my spare time I enjoy but a gentle sway."
“Alas my dear, eat up that worried frown of yours;
My resurrection is not your worthwhile, destined cause.
I am happy rejoicing my freedom with sanity chained to the floor.”
“My love, you sound awfully in-co-he-rent”
“I regret that my lips and thoughts are not utterly content.
It sounds brilliant, marvellous up here in my head;
yet utter nonsense when heard, or said."
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