

The SongThere's a storm front approaching without any warning and the air is a'glitter with fire and the men who are dancing cannot break the trance in the music that's sung by the liarThe Song
And they're singing a song that pulls the storm on 'bove the worker's heads in the field Though we warned of it's coming they beat us with loving arms that for no one would yield
And they sing: Come a bit closer, you are free Welcome to our hypocritical sanctuary But never mind us, go about your days We'll be watching you through our heavy curtain of lac
The Little Men
I can't wait to see more of your stuff! Laterz!
~Jeph
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Oh no! My Karma ran over your Dogma! I hope it can recover nicely.
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@~>~~
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