There's a place you've got to go for Burning all you want to know about the Pacts of Strife The Tacks and Knife
When Looks are about their Clout and reading books makes them pout the time is night to spurn the flack of strife
When the Whirl never Streams To be Sifting your Creams Bitch fine, u starta finnna aught who everyone be tawking naught
When the Goys you used to Debate, I trusss u inter-niggate. The cracks of tithe, u get go good 'dem right The Cracks in a Scythe
inter-niggate
You put some words in the fire and hammered them upon the anvil until they were wrought
Oh no, I'm not really a poet, I'd describe myself as a lyrical Iron-Smith. If you are thirsty, please help yourself to the soy milk in the fridge
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