OUR FATHER OUR FATHER OUR FATHER OUR FATHER, WHO LIVES WITH US NOW, RESTS IN HIS SUNDAY BED. HE WILL NOT GO ANYWHERE TODAY, OUR FATHER. HE WILL NOT REST, HE WILL NOT LEAVE THE HOUSE. HE IS MADE OF WOOD, WHERE MY MOTHER IS MADE OF STONE. OUR FATHER, I LOVE HIM MORE, FOR WE WILL RETURN TO THE EARTH QUICKER, QUICKER, QUICKER. THE SALTED GROUND WE STAND UPON IS MARKED BY THE WORDS HE HAS PRAYED INTO THIS EARTH. YOU WILL UNDERSTAND WHEN YOU MEET OUR FATHER. THE WORDS HE WILL WHITTLE YOU WITH WILL NOT LOVE NOR LEARN YOU. YOU WILL BE THE ROOT OUR FATHER GROWS FROM, BUT HE WILL LISTEN TO YOU. THE WORDS OF A STRANGER ARE WELCOME TO OUR FATHER, FOR YOU ARE NOT WOOD NOR STONE BUT A FABRIC FOR HIM TO DEVOUR. TELL HIS LIFE TO HIM IN TWO PARAGRAPHS AND THE GLYPHS OF YOUR BODY WILL BE ETCHED UPON HIM. YET I AM SUFFOCATING, TRAPPED IN HIS BARK. HE HAS OUTGROWN ME. OUR FATHER, WHO ART IN HEAVEN, HOLLOW BE HIS NAME. OUR FATHER DOES NOT RESPOND TO ACKNOWLEDGING HIS CHILDREN, RATING KNOW...
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