End of an era
Puro instinct
Bright eyes baptized in flames
Line 'em up, send 'em off to the combat zone
to rape everything in sight
and crush anything that you cant control
Line 'em up, send 'em off to the combat zone
to rape everything in sight
and crush anything that you cant control
You're selling the truth, I know
but I got no proof, girl
The End of an Era
The End of an Era
Twelve dead Americans
Young and dumb, full of cum, holding smoking guns
Stuffed into body bags
Stack 'em up, send 'em off
Let God sort 'em out
Loose lips sink ships
as quick as a click of a fingertip
Skeptics eat shit
'cause the scum cant be swept under the rug again
You're sellin' the truth, I know
But I got no proof, girl
The End of an Era
The End of an Era
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