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CSR Lyrics

Gun-metal to the lobe, you take everything.
With little discretion, you get an erection, from stripping people of the hope they wish you could give them.
Your well kept facade is tearing at the seams.
Your stench can be smelled all throughout the building.
Counting coins as you kick her in the teeth.
Racketeer by any name; black market Ken Doll in the frontal position.
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