| At the gate the thrashers wait, with flesh of hardened steel
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| At the show the bitches go to such their nasty meal
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| Pounding meat, scorching heat, lick the dragon’s bite
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| Eat your tail, with tooth and nail, their juices flowing right
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| Nocturnal curves, seduce and serve, spread the grease and feast
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| We thrust in time, a filthy crime for craving lucid beasts
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| Innocence has disappeared, the judgement: bad is bad
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| We’re all damn good criminals from the good times that we’ve had
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| Masters of the armory, the attitude will show
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| Long live the underground, your last chance: here it goes
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| Thrashdance (Into her pants)
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| From dawn’s light, making spite, for thrills 'til early hours
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| Turn 'em back, infected crack, their skin is caught and sour
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| Thrashdance into her pants, her oyster stings you all
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| All aroused her stench is doused, she’s up against the wall
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| Pain and pealed with staining steel, take it, feel it grind
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| Piercing hearse, sends the curse, the thrashing metal way
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| We spit on those who choose to pose, we thrash with all the rest
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| Busting heads, ignoring feds, we know this crowd’s the best! |