| Thou mayest indeed
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| Tune onto the forbidden channel
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| And see it like it is baby
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| You should be a champion
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| Never fall on me Deceit, deceit, deceit
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| Getting dusty in the cellar
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| Yo I was thinking about my sick friend
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| Stringing a ring around my whit’s end
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| 30 loops later his feet hung inches out the pig pen
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| Motley day goblins brought up pillage to pass the stillness
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| With bad javelin tip dipped inside barrel black magic brilliance
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| Who rose at the tomb of the Unknown Soldier?
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| To capture the fashion fragment choreographed in traffic dancing for nickels
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| Looked like sickle cells with the principles of high rotary
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| One hope distortion odyssey sputters itself to my how not example sample
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| Give me the bread crust while considering the littering
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| I don’t pity the head rush or the whimpering, spill
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| Anchor to rock bottom, rocks bottom packs a ravenous catalyst
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| Sprung arachnid, leashed by the carnal tyrant
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| I choked when the cage bird sings and stings
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| Springs me up delirium to stitch the clipped wings
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| I say instinctively break through while clinging the shrieking souls
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| Mourning the death of ??? |
| and loss and quality control
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| Quality control, stand still string up the banner
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| From the beehive to the anthill; |
| rag dummy
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| Incorporate the unison of Vikings ship; |
| throw us best of perfection
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| Of the twice to burn with half the stone throwers, speak your assessment
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| My communicative, hinderings please the needs
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| Of a billion hungry victims gripped by the hell that’s left to splinters
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| Shiving up the mass of natives and it’s league marvels
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| One component’s sure to shock a mass burial, breeze
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| Broken penny bank fragments float up at staggered seas
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| Dirty work plus applicants with chatter box disease
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| Iron bandit, give them the stars, the head balloons and rubies
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| Asked for many moons and I can’t stand it any more
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| Is that how I feel when I sling?
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| And the regulars were so amazed
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| I’m the mightiest slinger of them all!
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| There is a time for war and a time for peace
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| And a time to run and a time to split
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| Getting dusty in the cellar
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| I don’t run a funny race, malnourished monarchs and loopy astrals
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| Where 99.9% swivel the broken axels
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| I built boats of a pack rat bats of bully club swung
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| Post utility inhalants nail it to stability and sail it Lopsided Star bird bow crooked mass makeshift
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| Patching holes with chewing gum and sticking sail to dirty bases
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| Observe me sitting with my eyes tied to the clock, 'Cause
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| I know that once that wind kicks up you and your motors left rope to the dock
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| And it’s the, art of clarity married to slender extension
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| Of blue sky of a happy neighborhood
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| String on my ring has left me dancing like wooden dummies in a paper nature
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| Marry had a case of door nails, Francis little brittle dolls of paper
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| In assembly, I tremble with a crocodile smile
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| Hiding a fish out of water complex provided upon entry
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| Now if I, were to, hold the speed
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| To levigate the game plan, would you wanna still impede
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| I mean I guess, I can just divorce me from the rest
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| And blame my chemical imbalance for the fact I’ve made a mess
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| But my loyalty supply hints ???
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| And I’m thinking that damn town prior’s about to fill this here bucket
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| It’s that, grand precious that precious that part of you wants to touch
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| And part of you just wants to sit and be impressed with
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| Tainted agony induct in barnacle attachments
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| Mood swinging upon the barnstorm with perpendicular traffic
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| Spread, circle 4,000 circuits you burn to cater wings
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| Above alkadiene Townsman spoon-fed the shadow
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| I’m tired of being wired into the thief ratio
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| It’s gnawing a hole through my scheme so I leave (know what I mean?)
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| It is the molotov cocktail hour
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| Havent I brought you blessings without number?
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| They have plenty of nothing and nothing is plenty for them
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| Yea
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| I’ve never had it so good
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| Getting dusty in the cellar x3 |