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Feed Me |
Driven home back from the city.
Lead grey sky come wash us nearly.
Can’t you see there’s no horizon?
In this speeding place called london.
I don’t think that this makes too much sense.
Dampened soul come called from slumber.
Woken up calmed like no other.
As you moan you’ll hear my laughter.
You grow old, I’ll grow young faster.
I don’t think that this makes too much sense.
Can’t you see I’m all used up.
I need something to come and feed me.
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