За военные астры

Thank you Lord for this life and the shit that didn’t come home to roost
The times I’ve made it to the bell, the teacher never found out
I’ve been a cocktail waitress with a sparkly bow on my ass
Forgive me Lord for I have sinned or not, whichever one
With my money my hands my pants my words my lips I have been loose
They sink ships I heard but I chancily wore my fedora like an umlaut
With a guise this size Lord I surmise I pass I pass I pass
I’m Death, I’m Explosion, I feel so big as if I’d swallowed the Sun

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