As they juggle knives for a deadly purpose, entertaining service, recursive
Lines naturally come out of my mind,and end up looking like bad cursive.
But now its whatever, knowing your the batter of another man that matters,
Service the discursive lurkers in the furthest mergers of a scary circus,
You didn't shout kamikaze now get help you ain't our pace
Im an arab i can buy you with my credit card and make you a slave
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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