Boobwise she is nice I'm a dick from paradise Future could be brighter If not for a drinking vice But sunbathing shades Keep us lighter than the urn or the vase In tact I march towards the craze Of forbearing tomorrow
Bearded men laugh While beardless women cry Children fight each other Sisters, brothers die Why the sorrow? Why the pain? Only to God we all complain No master to this land So why do you stretch your greedy hands?
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