| Illicit solariums of my nativity
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| A lachrymal tale of how I came to be
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| Starting when aromatic genus
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| Of the Marijuana were spliced
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| With the genes of mice
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| And soon failed, but continued to splice
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| Until finally succeeding
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| In bio-cultivating deeds
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| Creating new life forms
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| Origin of man and seed
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| But not like you
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| The mice knew everything intellectually
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| Specifically they had hate
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| For human beings
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| For years of experiments
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| And infecting them with disease…
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| Hybrids
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| Dagga, a plant of peace and love
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| I’m torn between who I am
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| When you create internally
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| All you need is love
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| It becomes an emotional body
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| Inner animus
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| But when you create externally
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| You don’t need no love
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| All you need is the calculating mind
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| Thus producing a being
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| With only a left brain
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| With no compassion or sense… Hybrid
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| An army grown of weed and mice
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| To replace man
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| Able to withstand famine and disease
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| Compulsive habits
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| Of environment destroyed
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| Unable to reproduce
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| Without scientology
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| Soon the world will be run
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| By artificial intelligence
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| Designed to control population growth
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| Humans slowly become obsolete
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| When cloning life is similar
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| To that of the greys
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| Instead of test tubes
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| And cattle mutilations
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| But through horticulture of spliced DNA
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| Derived from Marijuana and mice
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| Our world will be controlled
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| By the rich, slaves
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| And pollution withstanding… Hybrids |