Service the discursive lurkers in the furthest mergers of a scary circus,
I inclined the bastard / to fight or i will use my knifes 'n' daggers
No not the heiress just one from an escort service
You spend days in your room to look perfect on the surface,
Secret service insurgents observe me nervously
You in your after life fitting in hell perfectly
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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