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national laboratory - the motes lyrics

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the last time we saw him here he walked up over the hill and disappeared. lose your power. grow old or don’t. bl**dy cold is the season of note

like a voice of impending doom, and some kind of sound from the mechanical room. a great machine, with people in between. a great machine. a great machine. there are machines, and people in between. people machines. peoplе machines

the last time wе saw him here he walked up over the hill and disappeared

- the motes lyrics

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