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lyrics

i'm like the predator endeavoring to collect some trophies,
it's so easy when these amateurs be lackin olfactories,
no need to be in cover man, i got that flickerfield,
short out your gear and chill, then sneak up for the kill.

but torture is inevitable and you know hell is full,
a bored machine playing a scene back and forth until it's dull.

weak wills be meals for my crew and we
bill it all to the man uphill.
guantanamo money, sittin pretty for some scraps
at the table, but we still pay taxes.

you make sand castles, thinkin they're mansions,
when we're still owned by the same old assholes.

who transfer the title, transfer the lien,
you say the system's obscene but you still chasing their dream,

and why? so we can play goldeneye,
and pay too much for everything we buy.

credits

from Dreams in the Witch House, released April 4, 2014

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Stuart J Attic Indianapolis, Indiana

SONGS! Under an old moniker [see also Possum Glory]

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