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Flesh Harvest Lyrics by Psyclon Nine
Flesh Harvest by Psyclon Nine
They have no room to deflower
To end the fear to end this pain
We must cleanse this earth with the sulphur and rain
Still you're all waiting for perdition's son
Who needs your fucking god when I've got my gun?
Forget flesh harvest
That which brings us to our knees will separate our fantasies
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