LUCHHI zANE
 1900 1
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CATEGORY
life
Fellow everybody want a pump, but I aint got a pump to prove,
Crying that I am walking off with the hoodrat U know of being in the loom,
Woven through the thread of fence the shouts begin to become intense,
Flags of dispose flap and twist in the wind,
The colorful flesh of her sandals misbehave the feelings of the laps getting away,
Jingles of the fence only hopes for creed is to see them oneway.
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