He will not take no for an answer, one of life’s out and out chancers – dancing with the devil, trembling by his unimaginable side
Locked horns, these behemoth people do swarm like something rather akin to outright atmospheric, steering himself in an altogether terrifically dangerous direction
These deceitful weapons have been unnaturally built and he just will not quit, however hard we do push – a rush of blood to his incredibly focused head
Neglecting our everything
Seems they’ll be oh so very glad once we’re dead

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