The field I see in the distance
There are fire ants there
Their mounds await for some feet,
To sting until you yell
Holy ant mama hell!
Then you run and fall into water
A pond or creek, maybe
The sting lights up your whole body.
Until you become beacon.
Or bacon.
There are fire ants there
Their mounds await for some feet,
To sting until you yell
Holy ant mama hell!
Then you run and fall into water
A pond or creek, maybe
The sting lights up your whole body.
Until you become beacon.
Or bacon.
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