Drained blood from your own spine in a trophy.
|
Dead skin cells drip charity crumbs.
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Biting the hand that feeds,
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Deemed an unhealthy meal.
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When slipping on someone else's elbow grease,
|
Gurgling devices loose their appetite.
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Mirages seem to commission blame,
|
While pointing the finger cracks the mirror.
|
|
-----------------
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Alas, Here Come The Hypochondriacs To Wait With You In The Lobby
|
| The Locust |
