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The Drones Lyrics

Brace yourself for clamping shackles,
For nasty weather for your friends breaching your nucleus.
Prepare for turbulence. Prepare for nuclear winds.
We gotta go high. We gotta go. Are you ready or not?

Magic carpet!
We gotta go. Hold the line. Blow the speaker.
Magic carpet!
We gotta go, gotta float through the ether.

The change, the masks, the smash, the crab,
The loss of the sting. The vessels shattering...
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