Sometimes my lyrics are hard to choose i'm like a women to shoes and purses,
As they juggle knives for a deadly purpose, entertaining service, recursive
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/
No not the heiress just one from an escort service
They say with identity comes purpose
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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