guns

with guns and knives stowed in our suits we may be called as sons of brutes but even in this place of fright we find our state of pure delight delight me with your cunning smile which makes false countries reconcile firm grip and all that attitude young girls will hope that you'd include include them in your precious mind and never leave them far behind it must have been your glorious hair that makes them stop and love and stare stare at your retreating back with me as selfish and intact in truth, when all is said and done you only have to raise your gun

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