Divided families and tore 'em up and saddened mothers,
No not the heiress just one from an escort service
At a funeral service lurking and snatching purses
Each time you disperse your verses they are hurling curses
Service the discursive lurkers in the furthest mergers of a scary circus,
I'm hot like the backlash backdraft from sugar packets packed with anthrax
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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