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Sickening Rebellion

Tomas had a brother four years younger who died inside the womb
That was carried to term in a bucket of gin
And ignited the fetus in a placenta tomb
A sickening rebellion, a festering disease
Mark your head with sour mash and get down on your knees
Remove the stent and catheter
Your dark passenger drunk on gin
While you’re fucked up on embryo skin
Crossed cursed and christened
The blackest flock of sheep
Bound by sickness, sheltered by fear
Beware the company you keep

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