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Policy Of 3 - Improv Culture Kill | Текст песни

we celebrate the cultures that we kill
they are a roadside toursit trap
when they should be an institution
our science, that has poisoned us
on the inside and out
has created more fear than any vengeful
primitive god
our science, which we have accepted
so whole-hearted, forces us to define
what truly is a great mystery
we reach out but we lack the embrace
and we long for the embrace
there is no embrace
we have counted high
we revel in the kill
the improv culture kill
in the land of the great spirit
we sit so comatose
we live beyong, we dream beyong
we do not know what is lost
symbols of generations died, forced to be
bought and sold
this is the land, this is the land
this is your land
we have counted high
we revel in the kill
the improve culture kill
its the end, the heat of night
our most solemn mystery
its the end, the heat of dance
our most solemn mystery
our most solemn mystery


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