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Deep under the darkened cities |
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Beneath the overcrowded metropolis |
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All over the living sphere |
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In labyrinths of olden tunnels |
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Carved by forgotten forces |
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A sneaky revolution has taken form |
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Insidious and unexpected |
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Plugged into their mechanized training sockets |
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The Pumpkins are ready to march on mankind |
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Architects of a unique and healthy master plan |
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To squash and seed once more |
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In league to restore a long lost balance |
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Blueprints are set for a new pulse |
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And orange shall be the color of salvation |
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Heroic icons of the vegetable supremacy |
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A mistreated garden, their ultimate purgatory |
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They will row |
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Row without arms, but with fervor |
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Towards distant clouds of fire |
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Floating in steam-powered boats |
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Made of stone, shells and ivy |
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Grimacing faces at the bow of the vagrant entities |
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Looming over saturated airwaves |
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Fields to behold, hordes of barbarians |
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Sinking in hourglasses of concrete |
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The Pumpkins are ready to march on mankind |
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An elitist carnage for the satisfaction of a renewed greenhouse |
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But only the heads shall burn! |
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Hands and legs shall be spared to dance madly afterwards |
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Freed from an unfair alliance by grinning ambassadors |
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Earth's own orange vigilantes |
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The Pumpkins are ready to march on mankind |
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When shall rise the Pumpkins |
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And their organic cohorts |
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The reign of men as we know it |
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Will reach its conclusion |
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And in a parody of ancient ways |
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Halls of stained glass shall commemorate the past |
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A festival of altered realities and manipulated perceptions |
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Orchestrated by vain, secretive, faceless schemers |
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And in a parody of ancient ways |
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Halls of stained glass shall commemorate the past |
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History repeats itself as usual |