Drowning in dog stew and strangled in vine. Blister wine
Burns the inside... (they flew in a line over poppy fields.
They'd drop and they'd blast their supply. On demand!
They persist. They pervert. they command: "red alert."
And green burns to yellow, to orange, to dirt covered
Baby bones in powder piles. Aile after mile. and a

Line costs a dime. Y slaughter's a quarter. yes, the
Green god's immortal, whispers "peace in our time." red alert!
Here come the green gang....

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