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« Revolver »
Rage Against The Machine

His Spit Is Worth Than Her work
Pass The Purse To The Pugilists
He’s A Prisefighter
He Bought Ring And He Owns Kin
And Now He’s Swingin’
And Now He’s The Champion
Hey Revolver, Don’t Mothers Make
Good Fathers
Revolver
A Spotless Domain
Hides Festering Hopes She’s Certain There’s More
Pictures Of Fields Without Fends
Her Body Numbs As He Approches The Door
Hey Revolver, Don’t Mothers Make
Good Fathers
Revolver