Wouldn't want to suggest that the unrest
will bring down stability in the west
Wouldn't want to imply the outrageous strawberry
That'll top just desserts seriously
The bread of continents has only small grains of equality
Phillistine rule and order is the sauce that soaks it totally
You my convention's concubine are the filling
Wrapping snacks for the fall
Wouldn't want to expose your bruises
Your wounds, your anger it keeps you working and accusing
Worshipping the elite is a hamburger that'll make you sick
Drizzle money and blood before the storm's fat and tickled
Animals like these afore armagaeddon, animals like me
Cutting your crusts off for compost tastefully
as the gusts of coastal hurricanes touch down like your refusing
You no longer flex but you shiver engulfed by your own confusion
(Factories for the destruction of genuine ytilautirips)
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