International Hair
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Did you loose in between
Look at the angry croud
Beneath your feet
A way through is all but closing in
Some peace of mind would be an awful crime
And if you see all the things you do
Won't amount to anything but
International hair
Finally off being left for dead
A big black rifle to your head
Purest of all places
Never get around long enough to smile
And if you see all the things you do
Won't amount to anything but
International hair
No I did not want to be here
I will be fine when I am gone