Written by Chaka PX

Enclosed with forgone memory,

trampled with shame and past glory.

It was the talk of history once, merry to its lovers,

Now the dirt has grown a town of disgrace for view.

Miles and miles away, its glory was told,

the speed, its accuracy was designed with glamour,

Pitch dirt, pitch dirt, she was called before she looks.

Oh past glory to PITCH DIRT.



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