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Someone once lied about my age. As if I could stand there, lingering bold faced. Where are men who can tell if your body is on fire? Well, they're gone. For they've withered in all their hate. Yes, they're gone. You can't save them, it's far too late. And I make my home where all your bones grow old. As the years go by I stay inside alone. Leave a woman scorned, a man reborn, and a distance elongating more and more. I'm eighteen, if anyone asks, I'm eighteen. I wake up to the morning gloom. Watch the ceiling, terrified as it moves. And I lie here, feeling all of my organs work. Have they weakened, now that they know their own worth? Oh, they've weakened. Now that they know their worth. There's nothing here as frightening as this ground, where I'm made whole. I'm picking up on every single sound. I'd rather know.
from How to Burn,
released April 26, 2016
Written By: Brit Rodriguez
Produced By: Thomas Harris
Engineered By: Thomas Harris
Recorded At: LA Rehearsal Studio