For you it's free, so why not agree?

The bastard utopia may fake a way

no ghost could fade for me

as no girls will play with me

Dance render sharp laying down

off put in her red silence

when it's time for bed

We'll cut off their heads instead

My soul is alone

costing the road it's silver

shrine of blank traffic light

In that poor old mans mind

Theirs an immaculate bedroom

with three fanged demons wearing masks

Now arrives the horse swallower

gallop your envy in gallons

To tame or maim a civil mans cattle

would rob poor faces their losing battle

The widows drag and dance for autumn

my spine shines a glistening glide

revealing petty words for coins disjoined

A suicide note in a bottle at sea

read the wet letters across to me

I'm bastard by choice

false heavens rejoice

for hell is miracle sell

Sink for free and follow me

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