Oliver Moore - Vocals, Guitar
Tracey Garner - Bass, Percussion
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fiogf49gjkf0d They don’t speak, they don’t talk on end
They don’t hiss and sniff the ground to condensend
They don’t keep to well on ice my friend
They don’t mean to call you names my friend
They’re on their way, they will bring you home.
They don’t understand a teenage boy in love
Your pappas drowning you in pink surburban love
Put away that gun boy,
never point that toy at me …cause I’m…
in so much love.
And go to Hell.
Skipping Gym class cause I’m picked last.
Drinking kool-aid from a shot glass.
Holding off my death until, I’ve seen another
Star Wars film.
God is almost right, coincidence is slim
Fate is nothing than an almost empty gin.
Put away that gun boy,
never point that toy at me …cause I’m…
in so much love.
And go to Hell.
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