Fashion bleeds, stains and frees, spreading all life's scum and sleaze.
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Spitting fire, in the eyes, of the least suspecting patrons.
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Turning cold, with control, killing everyone who knows
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Standing by, in the aisles, watching recent complications.
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(repeat)
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You can hear their shouts from cars, see cigars burn in trendy bars, Flicking ashes on the heads of teenage kids with poorly tuned guitars.
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(repeat)
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Fashion Bleeds
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| Archers of Loaf |
