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*** Hate Mail ***
Sometimes I fantasize of being a mailman
I walk into a shop with a loaded gun
I'm pickin' off the people who quite don't understand
Some were running, and scattering
And some were playing dead
I'm running thru the shop, trippin' over bodies
I'm wackin' people off like I work for John Gotti
I'm holding no grudge, it's personal instead
I've been promoted to a disgruntled postman
One mailman escaped out the door
An itchy fingered Fed filled him full of holes
Never thinking he may have been an innocent bystander
While unloading his clip that stupid Fed bastard
While waiting in line at the nearest Taco Bell
Over the radio they say another day in Mail Hell
So I dressed the dead in Polyester Dresses
And they called me a Waco, but I'm not from Texas
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