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Leatherface
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Animal Day
There are thousands Who dance to the atrocity of the wartime blues He thinks it's a shit dance But he likes the war and romance
Animal Day, send me to war Me and the boxer Animal Day, send me to war, then make a charity He has a thing about pretty things And the machines of history
He lives in a little black box in the midst of obscurity All the censored things, the terminal disease The filth and obscenity, running the charities And all the pretty things feeding our memory Animal Day, send me to war
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