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Scotty

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Yea here we go for the hundredth time,

Hand grenade pins in every line,

Throw 'em up and let something shine.

Going out of my f**king mind.

Filthy mouth, no excuse.

Find a new place to hang this noose.

String me up from atop these roofs.

Knot it tight so I won't get loose.

Truth is you can stop and stare,

Bled myself out and no one cares.

Dug a trench out, laid down there

With a shovel up out to reach somewhere.

Yea someone pour it in,

Make it a dirt dance floor again.

Say your prayers and stomp it out,

When they bring that chorus in.

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