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You're an animal, a dirty fucking animal, And I will hunt you like the beast you are. Maybe I'll slay you with a rifle; firepower suits you well, Or maybe I'll end you with an arrow, swift and silent. More than not it'll be a knife; personal and wicked. Then I will hang you above my mantle piece, So you can watch me sip my tea.
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Written by
becca-keith
American
Published
Nov 19, 2012
Lines·Words
8·66
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