Lyrics of 'Minimalistic Objectivity' by Terminally Your Aborted Ghost

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A diabetic dance of grave digging daggers.
Cadavers of list consulting lion keepers, drugged awake.
Inspect pickled proximal, panic-traced timetables taught under top-heavy tiptoes.
Bulging bilge of body types transferred onto tight knit tendrils of tendons.
Those naked unfed sides hinge bare in over-exposed daughter-white skin.

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