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How nice, buying food for both of you
Just as though the pagan wife you are
To her there's where you're true
From me your truth's too far

Far into seven minutes until seven
Being without you is my heaven
It doesn't even hurt a bit
Because we're never going to fit

She's your spouse much more that I will be
While you're a louse sucking up her security
It's almost seven now, where do we end
Please give me back the ring I bought you to pretend

That you loved me more than any female
I see I was just your party doll when she fell
Out of your mind as your incestuous sister
It's seven now, and back to kissing her ass, Michael mister.

10/10/2005 1910 cj

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