Bastard, hap hazardous track master, put a beat on and words become lavishly crass daggers/
Service the discursive lurkers in the furthest mergers of a scary circus,
No not the heiress just one from an escort service
Except for the lower class, now what's their purpose?
Im steady surgin' with verses, deadly but on the surface im nervous
Personally purchase the hearse, attend the service
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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