Go down to wait all night
She's bound to run him out
The rest of the nothing of any how
To each his own
The garden is sorting out
She curls her lips on a bar
I don't know if you're dead or not
If you're anyone
Come on and get the minimum
Before you open up your eyes
It's all being served in your hands
Your addled eyes
Come on and get to open yours
Collected at the borderlines
They want to get up in your hair
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