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Jesus Christ, I might as well be dead
I can't see how dangerous
It must feel to me
Training human cogs for the machine
Without some shell-shocked lunatic like me
Bombarding their still soft shells
With sticks and stones
That were lying around
In the pile of unspeakable feelings I'd found
When I turned back the stone
Turned over the stone
Of my own disappointment back home
Composição: Roger Waters
