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I Love Ma Guitare

de Pangaea

They come from the city
The owl has seen them
And he has told me
Their presence offends him

They come to pay homage
As I had long ago
But their souls are tainted
And their rituals are false
They desecrate the very soil
On which they pray

They ask the spirits for guidance
The spirits will only guide them
To their untimely demise

I watch flowers wither in the stench of their wake
This cannot be tolerated
The heretics must pay

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