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the skyscraper lined corridors of the city beckon forward into their shadowed aisles discarding the charcoal of your exhaust to inhale the succulent drip "so be it", I think in the crunch of my tartness villain? qu'est-ce que c'est? fa-fa-falter you're a sinner too weak to confess and I now refuse the ritual of sacrifice on that altar as I turn away to pop my collar
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