all you have to do is stand up and speak
if you fake it you can grasp for foul language
you can slake out your propaganda stale mix
or buy an ounce of my altruistic stylist tricks
you thought a success wouldn't be messy
but then you found your brain being sold
to the sun-eater, the moon-beater, so sad
you sold out before the bid war had been had
so soft my danger wafts into your strange ears
you pump Listerine in place of Tetra-hydro-chlorine
so empty places grow unseen
then one memory gleans a piece of cancer genes
at last at least at most we've seen a chump
who comes hard against himself and the world
is it simple to turn a child's temple to something
so simple it scrapes the bottom of the credit dump?
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