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The Swarm - Plague lyrics

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Money for your ailing God, pump it into his dead corpse. Yes, you are just like your christ - a smooth talking salesman with all the easy answers. A TV personality is all you'll ever f**ing be. And the sheep that feed your disease deserve every bit of what they're getting. The false hope of salvation, the seduction of the pliant. Nothing can revive a fictional hero - ever

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