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The red button to the doomsay device don't go there where you're already holding sorries in advance try to test that not like this a chance has passed you by I held a fistful of words to touch and deny and explode it hit where it could hurt, not I and then to cry like that a fact of broken eyes that collide it was that mischief maker a fickle finger of boredom attached to a body of dissatisfaction It loaded the gun for fun and words employed were done and then the trigger was happy to be oppressed I found the button to test then press and press and then the rest was done I'm sorry for I have sinned a confession that you can't win and a countdown to 10 then off till 3 2 1 its done I won I think you stopped beating, not I I think we're done by eternalslacker |