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Nov 2015
A new town, a new place,
Every day we see them.
They are a blessing and a curse,
To bless us with death.

They're everywhere, they live among us,
And we love them so.
Point your fingers at the tools,
Point the barrels at yourselves,
It all makes sense in our twisted world.

Call 'em blind, call 'em slaves,
We're all the same.
Clones who can't see the raw  truth,
Without a coat of sweet lies.

Sky blue lies,
But the truth runs red,
Like the blood you soak in.

Let's play a game of Russian roulette,
I'll load the gun and you place the bets.
Who the **** will make it out?
Who has to die next?

Your standards have not changed in a changing world,
Tradition has been ***** of all reason.
So set flame the number two excuse,
Forever engraved in depravity.
How can they **** us without us?
We send each other to the slaughter.
Man turns on man, child turns to killer,
Isolation becomes the evil, and reason is retribution.

So let's play that of Russian roulette,
I'll load a few guns, you call those risky bets.
How many dead bodies equals logic?
How much longer can we do this?
Alex Kuntz
Written by
Alex Kuntz  Ohio
(Ohio)   
1.6k
   Sadikshya Tripathi and SPT
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