Singing these days keeps my brain going, with no vocal chords I mumble distasteful longing. Freedom is a sweetly sick fruit, so delicious is the juice, but one mouthful will enslave your mortal being! A trap waiting in the back of my coiled mind; it sprang out at a pedestrian walking through the moments of joined fates! I smell a sour ambiance about your jesting giggles and humble restraint!
Stressed Out!
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