taking pictures of someone at a funeral seems mad eerie to me still.. it reminds me of that move "the others"
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my eye's a camera, my ear's a microphone.
& my mind is pro-tools, my head is a stool.
what's recorded in my dome, gets reported when i zone
my mouth is a speaker, i'm anchorin' the misery
there's no friends, i ennemy 'em
my greatest enemy, is my inner me