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We hate their crescent moon, How about you? We dance to Bushie's tune, How about you? We like infanticide When folks misconstrue Kids' demise as minor slips, Not an apocalypse, When retribution's due. We're sad when travel books Go out-of-date And describe whole neighborhoods We obliterate. Bombing crowds at a movie show May not seem apropos – They captured two – But we like it, How about you?
Music by Burton Lane |