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i don't know, this sick girl, who does she think she is?
smelling like both liquor and piss

she can talk, all she wants, but does she make any sense?
all apart of her spiritual expense

she don't care, to pay her share, long as she gets somewhere
and probably sleep in there

for the night, you can ride, pick any hole you want
all for the price of a haunt

and pretty soon for the afternoon, i could spend it with you
if i was the one you'd choose

all the rum in your tum can seem like happiness
honestly you're full of ignorance