Isn't it ironic, the opiate flys at lightspeed, in mainlines through brain lines plugged in three pronged DC, you take away our hours in return you give us scripts, but without you we don't know how to expend it.
Isn't it ironic, the opiate flys at lightspeed, religion contagion superficial trend, you face interrogation if you're not off with lightspeed, narcotic introcysm is hateseed and sleepspeed.
Isn't it ironic, the opiate flys at lightspeed, psychotic neurotic ideology you turn it to the mad men like garbage through the trash can like carbon in the pop can, like flame to gasoline.
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