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| Fresh scene of a crime, Everything to see here, Forced entry? Exit wound? | |
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| Mark St. Goatses day, Patron Saint of train drivers, And chimeny sweeps. | |
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| His burning ember, Is a beacon for us all, It's message is clear. | |
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| He tore asunder, United States of Ass-hole, Anarchy is truth. | |
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| You glorius bitch! I die now. | |
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| Ha ha! I won. So I was correct, your mother is a bit of a slag. | |
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