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Loving with a loaded stun gun, undefined by the calibre |
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My salivating bloated tongue hung in mid air over |
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ungathered song lyrics sung in silence |
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Spirits from the crypt wielding whips move my lips when I''m reading novels |
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Mr. Son, You eat the meat, I''ll eat the offal. |
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And together we''ll pick this carcass clean and wind up with a skeleton... |
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We''ll take a breathe in then be back again to grind the bones into a fine dust |
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and paint our faces with the ashes |
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The color clashes with the symbolism. |
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Fighting fascists walk in the Kimberleys |
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until their skin disease begin to camouflage us. |
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Into herds of these native birds and bees, |
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all having sex in hexagonal nests. |
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The world''s ping E''s like ping English instead of science |
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and with the S and L they spell the words "Eternal Silence" |
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And this is the Sahara, here the pigeons are the scavengers. |
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As ravenous as Burke and Wills (he kills to eat the cannibals) |
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Instead they ate the camels. We do the same shit here with mammals. |
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Walking two legged, racks of lamb wearing toupees. |
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This act of man as cannibal, acts as mechanical hands of time |
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tracks the impediment of my syntax |
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Saxophonists blow the oesophagus blues |
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''Green Oranges''. All blood is red. |
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I woke up in my sarcophagus so I guess I got to be dead |
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Decapitating the head of a pimple upon a particular meat |
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"I ain''t eating this! Garcon! What''s going on |
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with my camel meat? I am enraged and disapproving!" |
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"Ahh sir.. I do believe that meat you''re eating is human." |