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YOUR EYES ARE ALMOST DEAD CAN`T GET OUT OF BED. AND YOU CAN`T SLEEP.YOU`RE SITTING DOWN TO  DRESS AND YOU`RE A MESS YOU LOOK IN THE MIRROR.YOU LOOK IN YOUR EYES. SAY YOU REALIZE.EVERYBODY GOES  LEAVING THOSE WHO FALL BEHIND.EVERYBODY GOES AS FAR AS THEY CAN,THEY DON`T JUST CARE. THEY STOOD ON THE STAIRS LAUGHING AT YOUR ERRORS. YOU`RE ON YOUR OWN SHE`S IN HER BED.EVERYBODY GOES LEAVING  THOSE WHO FALL BEHIND.EVERYBODY GOES AS FAR AS THEY CAN,THEY DON`T JUST CARE.YOU`RE A WASTED FACE. YOU`RE A SAD EYED LIE. YOU`RE A HOLOCAUST.                       THIS MORTAL COIL

 
   

   
 

JEWELLER HAS A SHOP ON THE CORNER OF THE BOULEVARD. IN THE NIGHT, IN SMALL SPECTACLES HE POLISHES OLD COINS. HE USES SPIT AND CLOTHES AND ASHES. HE MAKES THEM SHINE WITH ASHES. HE KNOWS THE USE OF ASHES. THE COINS ARE OFTEN VERY OLD BY THE TIME THEY REACH THE JEWELLER. WITH HIS HAND AND ASHES HE WILL TRY THE BEST HE CAN. HE KNOWS THAT HE CAN ONLY SHINE THEM, CANNOT REPAIR THE SCRATCHES. HE KNOWS THAT EVEN NEW COINS HAVE SCARS SO HE JUST SMILES. HE KNOWS THE USE OF ASHES. HE WORSHIPS GOD WITH ASHES. IN THE DARKEST OF THE NIGHT. BOTH HIS  HANDS WILL BLISTER BADLY. THEY WILL OFTEN OPEN PAINFULLY AND THE BLOOD FLOWS FROM HIS HANDS. HE WORKS TO TAKE FROM BLACK COIN FACES, THE THUMB PRINTS FROM SO MANY AGES. HE WISHES HE COULD CURE THE SCARS.WHEN HE  FORGETS HE SOMETIMES CRIES.HE KNOWS THE USE OF ASHES .HE WORSHIPS GOD WITH ASHES .HE KNOWS , HE KNOWS HE WORSHIPS GOD WITH ASHES.                                   THIS MORTAL COIL