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2/12
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Oh my god we've been fed all these lies, some say the truth is harder to swallow.
Butterfly switchblade archaic devices, they takeover the words it's just so much easier.
Oh so what if she's a night walker, cruising the city looking for vices. Yeah all the boys they really love her, I bet your thoughts are much more twisted.
The local shops are no longer open, who the hell knows where Margaret is hiding. My memories are plastered in Neon Black, the motorcycle boy is never coming back.
On the wrong side of those tracks I stand with dirty fingernails, my hands are nailed to your cross. A thousand failed attempts and a puddle of blood.
A story with no ending but when did it start, a fiend without a face and a blackened heart. Youth with no future cut their fingers off, the thief of limbs is already gone on his Freedom Tour.
Oh my god you've been fed all these lies.
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