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letra de capsules - lis er stille

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we’re in the trench of a revolution
with a strange colour of confusion trance
and the seeping voice of the boy choir
scouting out all the wrong ways to enjoy her

a name, she wanted a name
she don’t wanna feel strange

all the hollowtics and their trampoline suits
gagging out the sense of it
and all the hipster tricks
caused the hypocrites
to endure her

laid, you wanna get laid
you wanted to stay tranquil

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