| Your calling matters not, to all things
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| That can’t withstand a single story falling
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| Or text book mauling
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| Or long talks about themselves and the egalitarian
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| Gross sprawl of all faults and hells
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| They live in… they them this it…
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| On and on and on eclipse… with no kids, and I don’t know where rent is…
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| And if things don’t get less armagedon like
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| You’ll be forced to eat your only friend tonight
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| It’s broader, than you are un-wed
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| Like all them friends you’ve had for ten
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| And still don’t know you yet…
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| Like a death threat etched on a fabrige egg…
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| I am so not in love with this shit
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| All us symetrical cysts, respectively killing to live
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| All off of largely eachother, and what if’s…
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| When asked, how we’ll roll
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| Without our heart and sole
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| They’ll be told…
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| Hard as shhhhh…
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| That’s how its always been
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| We ants get backs until they quit…
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| P. S. In jeff, shaun, branden, bren, dave, and john I trust… |