Suppose we tow the line for a while – inclined to remain all too easy on the eye
My, oh my, why do we need to breathe through these altogether superficial procedures, handsome fixture-lists devotedly set in place which will fail to let us fall
You’ve all been trying your very damnedest to charmingly twist our arms into rather manic submission
The ammunition of equal importance of course – swords at dawn, prone to pushing us to the rather egotistical core
Seems it’s all been genetically stored ’til such time as these all too distasteful decades finally get to unwind our everything – faces crumpling of their own sorrowful accord
Not a single word of it…

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