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I'm going to hide from the rain
I am tired of running round while these nuns eat my grain
Ransacking, wolfpacking rats in a cult of fame, so lame
Secret christians are all the same
Don't be grumpy and cold
If you want to I can burn up a hole in this coal
Don't be surprised if it warms up right when we die
Tonight
Secret xtians
Are not too bright
