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/
Dial up words but they're not in service
Cause i got zero consumer surplus
At a funeral service lurking and snatching purses
Each time you disperse your verses they are hurling curses
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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