Let's shoot that gold coast cure in our veins; another anthem for the backseat lovers to sing. We've been living in a car crash world; we're spinning out of control. A newly consummated union for the cast iron hearts; yeah, we're going to make bank off of you. I'm a guaranteed fallacy. I'm an american skeleton; born dark, vicious, and free. HEY! HEY! FIGHT FOR YOUR SANITY; THE TASTE OF A MACHINE GUN SUMMER LOVE. WE'VE CREATED A HOLY WAR OVER THE VANITY OF OUR SINS. Corporate perversions in my head. Castrate yourself before they do; another catastrophic emasculation of all this conglomerate bullshit. This popular science is your brand new carcinogen; pray you'll be forgiven. Selling brain surgery in take home kits; kid, don't botch the home-job like I did. HEY! HEY! FIGHT FOR YOUR SANITY; THE TASTE OF A MACHINE GUN SUMMER LOVE. WE'VE CREATED A HOLY WAR FOR THE VANITY AND THE WHORES. HEY! HEY! FAITH VERSUS CHEMISTRY. THE TASTE OF CHEAP LIQUOR AND PORNOGRAPHY. WE'VE BECOME THE GENOCIDE FOR THE COCAINE AND FLASHING LIGHTS. Dig yourself a grave, baby, deep enough to let the soil crush your lungs. I'm a flatlined lover; with a past full of scars and hysterectomies. I won't take part in the mutiny; this crucifixion.
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