I remember when you joined the Wilbees
You wore your tap-hat and ghost-shroud like a little princess
And you didn't wince at all during the scraping
You erupted into flames once the liquid was pressed out of you
You were like a burning bone beacon
And the Wilbees promised me a sepia-tone photo
Of what you looked like before you were born
Try hiding in your past! Your memories are your weakness!
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