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Grade - Twenty Moons lyrics
with broken arms, a nasty note and a dead rat, I carry with me her suspension of disbelief why cant I be the genius who solved the greatest problems of his time am I even beyond metaphorical assistance why must I be a paint brush when we need a wrench her arrival at the correct velocity in order to perceive has been cancelled, and filed away this abstraction shall repeat in sequence |
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Last added lyrics |
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