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Cyanide Breath Mint

Definitely this is the wrong place to be

There's blood on the futon

There's a kid drinking fire

Going down to the seaThey got people to meet

Shaking hands with themselves

Looking out for themselvesWhen they ask you for credit

Give them a branch

When they want you to get it

Chew on the grassI know I know

'Cause they told me to tell you

There's nothing to tell you

There's nothing to sell youIn the afternoon

Riding the scapegoat

Burning equipment

DecomposingCool off your jets

Take off your sweats

I got a funny feeling

They got plastic in the afterlifeWhen they want you to cry

Leap into the sky

When they suck your mind

Like a pigeon you'll flyI know I know

It's the positive people

Running from their time

Looking for some feeling

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