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Trap Them
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Kindred Dirt
And stashed under our seats are the maps not worth the reach with worship squares we keep getting told about...and can't seem to be found. Maybe that's why so many would rather bow out... so there's a connect, as if we're on the same roads to share the same waste and build a way to ungraves. Close our aisles, less with give and get what we have. To erase. To erupt. Let go of our aims, let go of our best, let go of the wheel and let in the crash.
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