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| crime scene healed over |
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| the end of history, there might be something to it |
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| works like a dog |
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| incense sky, i dont know why, but the thugs below are eerily still silent, i only know they're there by the incense in my eyes. |
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| fiftyseven candles, wo, wo wo, bobby, i love you so. |
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| on your knees sally |
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| fat squirrel sorry unpc on a rock with ornamental frozen veggies |
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| towers become tunnels |
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| what if enlightenment only commences at a peace meal pace |
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| ask the woodeater |












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