Republicans In Love

Thought Industry

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    Sorry, I'm drunk dear. It happens all the time.
    Honestly, I thought I loved you. Too bad you're so
    damn lame. Scare me with the chance to die by people I
    would call friends. I guess it's a lovely trick. I probably
    should enlist.

    Grind me meaty. Wash me holy. Chew me crust
    bloody. Spit on me. You know I trust you dead.

    GOP's oily sudsing. Attempting to wash what won't
    rub. Flossing gums, then licking bottoms. Nonchalant,
    they're gropping crotches. Raped green by forty ounces.
    Shiny bliss. My cocky drunk grin. Pretentious for
    deceiving you. You're gullible for believing me.

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    Grip cold drink starless starlet. You're the stench that
    sates him. His zipper's sticky on Sunday morn. Ron's a
    fist of cement late for breakfast.

    Emmanuel Kant. Hamshackles, and first and ten.
    June bugs lick the horses teeth smiling in the grave of
    summer. Assume texas stance. Moled south for
    Houston. Toads dismembering flies. Ill-behooved to
    miss them.

    I tend to think we are free.

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Brent Oberlin, Christopher Lee, Paul Enzio y Dustin Donaldson

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