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This town's an open wound waiting for infection. I see your desperate eyes in all directions. This is our home. You can't buy it, you can't sell it, now move on. We've got hands in pockets reaching for wallets. They tear the flesh from bone no matter what you call it. This is our home. You can't buy it, you can't sell it, now move on. You're searching for the customer in a movement. You can't buy it, you can't sell it, now move on.



Lyrics submitted by Paperthin_Hymn

F.F.P. song meanings
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