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Horatio
02:41
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I want a pony, a pretty pony. I want a pony, a pretty pretty pretty pretty. Call he Horatio, we share adventure. He run with scissors, we count our favourite politicians. Me and Horatio we milk each other. I give he kidney, he suckle on my bone marrow. He make appointment with disgraced physician. He handle ransom we divvy up the medication.
Medication.
Me and Horatio we have arrangement. His silver tongue provides the specimens for our operation, and with your process we will experiment, and never think about the damage to our reputation. Me and Horatio protect each other, from all around I hear the pitter patter pitter patter. Here are the jackboots of the institution. They don't agree that it's just a form of education.
Education. Educate.
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2. |
He's Got Gills
01:52
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You got your meat for the front page. You got your deepthroat Watergate tissue sample. You got your animal test case, but one of them feet ain't bones.
I animal collateral. Fallible. A parable of animal collateral.
You got your media accolades. You got your blanket Pullitzer nominations. You got your animal test case. But one of them feet ain't bones.
I animal collateral. Fallible. A parable of animal collateral.
You got your Quantico Silencer. You got deleted answerphone begging message. You got your animal test case, but one of them feet ain't bones.
One of them feet ain't bones.
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Fashoda Crisis London, UK
At all times Fashoda Crisis play from the bottom of their twisted, blackened tumourous little hearts. They spew forth vitriol and acerbic wit in equal measures, melding political rhetoric and social commentary with opaquely personal lyrics. Intelligent, violent, passionate, honest, spleen-rupturingly humourous (and modest, let’s not forget modest) genre mangling mentalists. ... more
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