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Arsonist Ballistica

Sliding gliders, petrified lighters, fire blinks through paper like your eyeballs on my sword—are you bored? The situation is under control, just hold—let me relax you, playfully tact you, rise above and detract you and your policies of disgust, of melancholy distrust, living the life of an android, you must not mistrust. I am your saviour, from hell to bust, keeping the chords of vitality strong and keeping love away from lust. I’ve got the penchant for the control of your soul, so don’t let go, help me flow, your river is my time, and if you bleed, you block my rhyme. So, yeah, baby, drop me a die, a simple snake’s eye, big brother is watching you, and remember your eyes are the devil’s spies.