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Sitting there pecking at the picture of perfection |
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Waking at the time, fine brain matter |
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Looking at the blood with the brimming of a dead head |
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Wondering if the sunshine will ever catch your eye |
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Picking at the dead skin |
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How does gonorrhea feel? |
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Once you read keep us fed |
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Falling off a horse's hind |
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Diggin' me sunshine where's the other bigger sin |
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Deep inside the house before the roof caved in |
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Getting in psy trance watching 'til you half sin |
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Piece a lie, made it hymm and killing him |
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Pedaflies flocking by, testified he's chickened out |
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After all is said and done we live to shit, to kill, to come |
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Pain his trust his tragedy |
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Why is everything so needy |
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Oh no says half to pain nor chance |
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Today a laughter shake |
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Pain his trust t'his tragedy |
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Pain his trust t'his tragedy |
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Pain his trust t'his tragedy |
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Why is everything so needy |
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Testing their pecking young blood, piecing along, perfection |
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Would you let time better, fine brain matter |
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Testing their pecking gun, there piecing along perfection |
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Waging if the time better, fine brain matter |
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"Any medical student could've seen that the eyes were torn from the body by nothing other than human fingers!" |