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Mar 2015
Creeps the stench into the room,
Through an open door, our doom,

Oily sticky sour smell,
Ain't Heaven must be hell,

Large grow-op cannot be far,
Perhaps a skunk versus a car?

Peace and quiet taken for a oneway ride,
As there is now a stink, high on Eventide,

It has come in.
Tide of a certain breed
Ottar
Written by
Ottar  where you will find me
(where you will find me)   
973
   bex
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