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Child’s Play

guiltily, guiltily, think
the thoughts are soon what stink
the mind is like
a rusty trike
with pedals out of sync

victory, victory, now
there isn't a method how
the present is
the place we live
what's now we must allow

this subtle trickery lie
to think we must comply
the truth is one
the nose will run
a lie we must defy



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