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Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family, Choose a bloody big television, Choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players, and electrical tin openers.
Choose good health, low cholesterol and dental insurance. Choose fixed-interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends.
Choose leisure wear and matching luggage. Choose a three piece suite on hire purchase in a range of bloody fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing sprit-crushing game shows, stuffing bloody junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pushing you last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, screwed-up brats you have spawned to replace yourself. Choose your future. Choose life.
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We got the look, we got the push, we got the pull.
What do you think's gonna rise, when hell is full?
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