I inclined the bastard / to fight or i will use my knifes 'n' daggers
Service the discursive lurkers in the furthest mergers of a scary circus,
My punch lines make you bleed internally,
Secret service insurgents observe me nervously
At a funeral service lurking and snatching purses
Wait a second..the souls still have fear,every hearse reverses.
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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