Making out with people is luxurious when the night is growing, but young.
As we wither with the age of time that ends the day,
We lose the charm that keeps mystery at bay. 

But Doo Pop do things to see what's right and what's wrong. 
Ya make a mistake, so damn, ya move on. 
Maybe I don't want to recreate sweet little any longer. 
Walk ya home for more time, little mongrel. 

Gin, where do I begin, 
We take sips, but I'm pickled within. 

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