you put me down with a stick you got that safety pin grip you know me like you know ice on a fire dust myself off with a spoon you shot your darts at the moon and this piece didn`t tear too soon now it`s dust the rubber burns peeling out behind the wheel and you`re looking for the holes that I don`t have caught on underneath my heel but now i`m moving on moving on from your safety pin inside the scoop outside the rage mothballs galore caught in the drain your hat`s on tight like super glue you dug the pit you stepped in it and now you`re out with the prick you`re going down without this ship
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