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I can't get to use county forts when you're feeling suck, trading rivers so kindly.
Break it off, break it off when you see a poor and you think it's ripen.
I could tell her, I could tell her when you let your feet and your noise mean bathing.
Scared of grains, scared of grains, count of deadlines and the parts they're writing.
County trees, county fires, see the buckled wheel and the merry-go-rounding.
Spin your arms, spin your eyes, have a mouthfully ever carefully pleasing.
Count within and count without, feel the bellowing and the perfect flexing.
Lily trap, then let it bounce, count of murders and the gravity breathing.
I can't get to use county forts when you're feeling suck, trading rivers so kindly.
I can't get to use county forts when you're feeling suck, trading rivers so kindly.
I can't get to use county forts when you're feeling suck, trading rivers so kindly.
I can't get to use county forts when you're feeling suck, trading rivers so kindly.
I can't get to use county forts when you're feeling suck, trading rivers so kindly.
I can't get to use county forts when you're feeling suck, trading rivers so kindly.
I can't get to use county forts when you're feeling suck, trading rivers so kindly.
I can't get to use county forts when you're feeling suck, trading rivers so kindly.
I can't get to use county forts when you're feeling suck.
