Phish

Grind

Phish


Grind, Grind, Grind, Grind, Grind, Grind, Grind

I can bend in sixty-eight ways
I have lived for twelve thousand days
Twenty-eight teeth inside my head
Grind three types of things and I'm sad that they're dead

Grind, Grind, Grind, Grind, Grind, Grind, Grind

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