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​Improv Culture Kill

This song is by Policy of Three.

We celebrate the cultures that we kill

They are a roadside toursit trap

When they should be an institution

Our science, that has poisoned us

On the inside and out

Has created more fear than any vengeful

Primitive god

Our science, which we have accepted

So whole-hearted, forces us to define

What truly is a great mystery

We reach out but we lack the embrace

And we long for the embrace

There is no embrace

We have counted high

We revel in the kill

The improv culture kill

In the land of the great spirit

We sit so comatose

We live beyong, we dream beyong

We do not know what is lost

Symbols of generations died, forced to be

Bought and sold

This is the land, this is the land

This is your land

We have counted high

We revel in the kill

The improve culture kill

It's the end, the heat of night

Our most solemn mystery

It's the end, the heat of dance

Our most solemn mystery

Our most solemn mystery