I'll imprison your loved ones in burning furnace
Dial up words but they're not in service
'cause it was an admired service-man
Put in work make stacks of hunneds, gotta roll dis cash man/
Service the discursive lurkers in the furthest mergers of a scary circus,
Bastard, hap hazardous track master, put a beat on and words become lavishly crass daggers/
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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