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Foo Fighters

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Since I'm putting down all
Of the true things around but I like it
I handed down the crown
Given the jewels and the answers of may
The thought of being ousted comes and goes
When I think about it the wind blows
I hate it

Run me out of town
Somewhere a move might intended a gown at

Pissed at all the bowels
Always the blues and a delicate smile
Missed all of the sideways
Gull and noun
Chills and petty band-aids
Wrapped around
I hate it

Good grief