Untitled Document
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Dissonant
Oh, savory tumor of mine.
Pour out your puss and blood.
Cry, not in malicious contempt,
but with the joy of being understood.
Why, oh, cheapened artisan.
Don Quixote of contemporary sludge.
Why, must you exploit the fountain of this pen.
Hooking up your placebo electrodes to your "fine art."
Clear, Dizunnut. Clear, Dizunnut.
Sweetly, the smells of smoldering brain races through me.
Oh, sweet barrier. A bourgeois barricade. Be gone.
Be destroyed by the clear reasoning of a genius mind.
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