we sectioned through the blaine and used
we'll come in droves and we'll leave with few
we'll they promised god and the triggers born
I shot the sun but who shot the child
well the bone has it's man
we landed quick and optimized
with skillful hands, with our bellies bald and ripe
but she don't really mind
I'm weirded out as I contemplate
the year they came, the year they ate
well it's our lives
yes it's our lives
but she don't really mind
we don't really follow through
but she don't really mind
she don't really follow through
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