Mesh - 2010/10/15

Mop mop mop all day long
Mop mop mop as I sing this song
Gonna spruce up your failure
Gonna make it shine
Wipe your grin away with turpentine

Glassy eyes staring straight ahead
Hiding a hellish war in their head
Poor souls with ears forced to listen
To tales of ghosts returned and risen

Small bird full of grace
Take flight from this dying place
Damn those who give chase

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