Clay by Wire
Turning red
Adopting styles that seem inbred
We're made of lead
Stay on the pace
Recoup the loot, avoid, disgrace
Sink without trace
It's a hoot
Run ahead and blindly shoot
Hit the marker, end dispute
Marking time
Laying boundaries out in lime
A life of crime
Drift away
Never find the urge to play
We're made of clay
It's a hoot
Hit the marker, end dispute
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