Many Forms of Manipulation
Baby, this trash is ours to hide
Concealed within the privacy of our knowledge
Ours I tell you, not for common eyes to see
A state of disharmony it may be, but it works for us
How dare you attempt to embarrass me?
This is your trash and I am doing you a favor
Your promiscuous nature puts mother to shame
Ashamed, your head should never reach the position of up
Your trash, soon to be revealed to the world
I thought you'd see it my way
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