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Clarissa Explains Cuntainment Lyrics - Singles - The Number Twelve Looks Like You

The horror they leave in three's they always do I'm holding hands with the 

devil while you make your deal with jesus so let me milk your prostate with 

the unborn meat fingers - Horrible your eyes implode with lucider's hammer 

so you don't watch it's satisfaction guaranteed the horror this condemned 

end of life three are dead one wounded you just should have planted the 

rotten seed inside your grandmother she could afford the abortion three 

one dead what was it what was occupying your mind into the vaginal 

secretion I'll drop my rotten seed to you it's time to trash the fetal tissue 

it's time to trash the fetal tissue one two three four five six.