The movie ran through me. The glamour subdued me. The tabloid untied me. I'm empty, please fill me. Mister anchor assure me, that Baghdad is burning. Your voice, it is so soothing. (That cunning mantra of killing) I need you, my witness, to dress this up so bloodless. To numb me and purge me now of thoughts of blaming you. Yes, the car is
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-guitar solo
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