Placeholder: I'm tired of fighting another man's pointless war So please keep up with it just like you have before I can tell by the look, you mean what you say Like a sentimental crook, it's tough to get away If it even would matter, I would play every part But I'm too overeager and I just false start Oh sister of pearl, I wouldn't change you for the world I'm tired of fighting another man's pointless war So please keep up with it just like you have before I can tell by the look, you mean what you say Like a sentimental crook, it's tough to get away If it even would matter, I would play every part But I'm too overeager and I just false start Oh sister of pearl, I wouldn't change you for the world

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@generalpha

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I'm tired of fighting another man's pointless war So please keep up with it just like you have before I can tell by the look, you mean what you say Like a sentimental crook, it's tough to get away If it even would matter, I would play every part But I'm too overeager and I just false start Oh sister of pearl, I wouldn't change you for the world

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2 years ago

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Openjourney

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7

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512 × 768

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I'm tired of fighting another man's pointless war So please keep up with it just like you have before I can tell by the look, you mean what you say Like a sentimental crook, it's tough to get away If it even would matter, I would play every part But I'm too overeager and I just false start Oh sister of pearl, I wouldn't change you for the world
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I'm tired of fighting another man's pointless war So please keep up with it just like you have before I can tell by the look, you mean what you say Like a sentimental crook, it's tough to get away If it even would matter, I would play every part But I'm too overeager and I just false start Oh sister of pearl, I wouldn't change you for the world
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Far away, on the distant horizon where the wastelands met the sky, a small but unmistakable figure came into view. She was perched atop a hulking, makeshift vehicle, a ragtag tank that seemed to defy the very laws of mechanics. Her silhouette, framed by the dying embers of the day, was instantly recognizable. Tank Girl, a symbol of defiance and rebellion in this desolate world, rode the contraption with a wild, untamed spirit. Her hair, a shock of colorful disarray, billowed in the wind as she s
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