| I believe in all or nothing
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| Sometimes in the early morning
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| I believe in anything
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| Hungry for the dusty war cries
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| Hiding from a line of cat’s eyes
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| I believe in Natty Dread
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| When the gods have shaved and spoken
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| Soft farewells to spin unbroken
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| Leaves to match the newly dead
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| From eye to eye the tumult gathers
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| Victims work into a lather
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| Take us with you when you go
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| Up the trap door
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| Down the sewer
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| Off the slat shot shut they trossed
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| Like a horn in ragged water
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| And slitting up the slot spot cut
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| From wall to world the end is never
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| Odd or strange or even clever
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| Cleave it with an iron slice
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| While Cook’s below the frothing cinders
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| Mend the skull of old Belinda
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| Thudding on a bulb of ice
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| Here is love and here is cancer
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| Cleanest velvet for the mince event
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| To comes your aching teeth
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| Rot the skin of past and future
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| Tiny leads are bound to suture
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| When they show through underneath
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| Roar the waves so close and hollow
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| A tide that must be satisfied
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| Foam is fertilizing
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| Rotting cleansing of the valiant rat |