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Corpses on My Fingers
In the dark of the night,
They put up not a fight,
As I pick fruit flies out of my coffee,
I have corpses on my fingers, sorry.
...What a sobering thought.
They put up not a fight,
As I pick fruit flies out of my coffee,
I have corpses on my fingers, sorry.
...What a sobering thought.
Published 8th Jun 2022
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