Imbecile and fucking flake. You burned a hole by lsoing face. Too much wreck - unreachable scheme. Too much time - a dead end fate. And so much goes to waste. Crying over milk splashed on the floor. Let the air rot it out and claim it's such a bore. Egos are bruised, creativity dry. I don't know what to believe. Choice or force?

Lyrics submitted by RecoveringPain

Almost as Easy as Riding a Bicycle into the Erie Canal song meanings
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