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    I was drunk in youth's womb,
    Hungover for years in this tomb.
    I hate the yellow veins in your green and pink face,
    I hate the hedgerows in your countrified lanes.

    Bright lights,
    Where the roads are paved with shite.

    A huge slag heap from an open cast mind,
    Keep walking away can't leave it behind.

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    56 by 3 or more or less,
    Like a family you're built to oppress.
    EH prefix worse than a brand,
    You steal form me then you cut off my hands.

    A sick parasite,
    On the banks of the river shite.

    A hive where the reek of lies is auld indeed,
    Where bullshit's collected by rotting worker fleas.
    I know i can never ever trust this place,
    I see it in the mirror and my mother's face.
    Do i thank you for all?
    Or is a broken heart congenital?

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