this is the year of the locusts the season of the pig they dragged me to golgotha and tried to paint me red don’t ghost me now just because you can you might need a friend further down the line it’s a small world and that’s a fact we were bound to meet again I drew strength from that I’m counting once for sorrow and hoping twice brings joy I don’t pray for silver I only pray for gold so come on help me out minister to my wounds don’t pin me up again with your psychosexual harpoons
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