letra de fastfood window - molina
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my stomach
dance wobbly
tiny folds of skin
it’s my own fault
and his fault and love
i want fries
and meat
with a bun, soft and sweet
i don’t like bread made out of cauliflowers, flowers
fastfood widow is who i am
can’t do anything
i’m going for some glans
doesn’t help
making love
exercise and stuff
it’s my own fault
and his fault and love
i want to smoke and soar
lay down, on the floor
i don’t like running 3 times a week
in an hour, an hour
i want to smoke and soar
lay down, on the floor
i don’t like running 3 times a week
in an hour, an hour
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