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Immortal memories dead in a web
Where we once were our roaring head
Dead in a web, boring people on bad cocaine
Dead in a web sandpaper
Tongues forked with terms of depression
Missing limbs thin under sweet obsession
God coming down, pulling fuckers from bars
And sticking them in driver seats of cars
Track marks the spot of the stuttering dead
But there's easier ways to blow off your head
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