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Since I'm putting down all of the true
things around, but I like it
I handed down the crown,
given the jewels and the answers of may
the thought of being ousted comes and goes
when I think about it the wind blows
I hate it
Run me out of town,
somewhere a move might intended a gown at
pissed at all the bowels,
always the blues and a delicate smile
missed all of the sideways, gull and noun
chills and petty band-aids, wrapped around
I hate it
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Good grief