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Stupid little,
monkey on heroine.
Feed his needles,
flying real high.
Brain is drowning,
real life and time gone.
When you transform from,
a small stage to a big,
stage you shed some of the
old, and grow a bit of the new
It is the shedding of, skin as
a snake, crisis like a
locust, while you are not
fully set, the new stage
Still a little wet and
your colors haven’t yet set
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