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Backwoods Lyrics

Backwoods by Callisto  

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Backwoods Their throats are an open grave
They hold secrets supposedly safe
And they will pass them on to their descendants
Adverse effect
How is your monarchy assembled?
Measure the gifts that have been given to you
Either you choke or cherish him.

Admonition - this time the prodigal son
Might not be coming home

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