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Mar 2015
Fought your case, hit the base now rage till you lose your face!
I'm space, you're space, we're all lost to the last drop and there is no reason for the pinball tournament to stop
We'll keep the cogs turnin till the babies stop shaking
I'm outside trying to rattle sheep while hurds are swarming in from sleep
My brothers coping with a lost coin toss and cigarette burns between his toes
All the mean while no one noticed some cats crept in and stole all our gold
I'll fold to hold it
Forgetting every milasecond I kept waisting my ability to forge sworn favors and excellent sense of humor for slackers and loose birds
Floating over broken bones bein stoked makin sure we're lettin the fires burn
Puttin the ashes in a modest recepticle and lay beneath the flowers
Layin in the lye for hours waitin to breakdown the spectacle of lights and superpowers
If I knew the purpose of the game
I probably wouldn't play
If I knew how to make money
I probably wouldn't want it
If knew how to not pop tires
My *** probably stop getting fired
But I'm tired and can't have half a nights rest for every moment is spent trekking on misguided intent with good motives in my head
I help the dead find their place in the middle coaching along singing the song all on the fiddle like that little ****** the riddle you bet your last skittle for a cup of brain sizzle
And I never said this was the best but my arrogance has you suckas restting in heck
Feckin wreckin
Gaitano
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