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lyrics

The more a thing is perfect
The more it feels pleasure and pain
It is the finest of blades
That are easily blunted, bent, or broken

I want to make beautiful things
even if nobody cares

The hottest places in hell
Are reserved for those who in great moral crisis
Maintain their neutrality
And God knows
That's not me

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Syd Lane Woodstock, New York

Nature's patient, sleepless Eremite.

I live in a cabin in the Catskills where I record music in my home studio.

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