Fire
(page 3)
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Sort by ratingGrease fire, grease fire!
Where there's smoke, there's fire.
You fall out of your mother's womb, you crawl across open country under fire, and drop into your grave.
Our thoughts are clay, they are moulded with the changes of the days; when we are resting they are good; under fire, they are dead. Fields of craters within and without.