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Brighten the corners and clear out the room |
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Color the flowers in rose and maroon |
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Light up the fires and season the swine |
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We're gonna party like it's 1699 |
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Slaughter the rabbits, the ducks, and the boars |
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And lay all the tables and open the doors |
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The creme de la creme will be waiting on one guest of honor |
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Oh, up go the curtains and down go the virgins |
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Oh no! Mothers are crying |
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Ladies of virtue will stand to accuse you of heartbreak and theft |
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Bells are gonna ring |
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Birds are gonna sing |
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Let the people begin |
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The crowning of your big head |
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Young drunken girls in a hideous dance |
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Sing a heartfelt lament of the death of romance |
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Beautiful boys turn and offer their cheeks |
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Preening and prancing, the outcome looks bleak |
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Good times are rolling but outside these walls |
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Our houses will crumble, the city will fall |
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But a few broken pawns don't mean nothing |
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To our guest of honor |
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So let's raise our glasses |
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To murderous asses like you |
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May you sleep soundly |
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Once we have laughter you got what you're after |
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Oh you wear it well |
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Bells are gonna ring |
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Birds are gonna sing |
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Let the people begin |
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Hear how the hearts are pounding |
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We're all witnessing the crowning |
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Of your big bleeding head |
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Bells are gonna ring |
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Birds are gonna sing |
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Let the people begin |
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Hear how the hearts are pounding |
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Your eyes, nothing but astounding |
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We're all witnessing the crowning |
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Of your useless, ruthless head |