the path of least persistence (figure ii) - shannon wright lyrics
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there goes your mother and her plague
what a terrible display
of a charcoaled tongue
that wouldn’t lend a hand
though this dead was a thoughtless act
with alcohol intact
quietly she seeks the day to p-ss
with those st-tches that you clean
you hold your flag of your doleful plea
now there’s nothing left to recall
a fruitless t-tle bestowed
amongst someone you could never know
in this plight of this dismay
this thickness of your plague
she’s a realm that’s lost her way
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