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Looks like you've been eating magpie eggs again |
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'Cause your face is a stamp |
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That's rejecting the little red marks to comprehend |
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What's not that good, and what's bad |
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So, first I'll have a day off to recover |
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And then another week to make my plans |
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And if you're not back when that first day's over |
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Looks as if your eggs are all rotten |
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And now is the time to rely |
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On the spellbinder's hat and his magic |
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Blue tie as our oceans run dry |
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The first day's when you'll get your toothbrush back |
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And the second one's made to compare |
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As you put the lotion in your backpack |
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I am already there |
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There's no longer no one asking your name |
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At the beach house grill on the fourth floor |
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And when you go out for a swim |
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You'll probably leave that face indoors |
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Looks like the eggs are ready hatched now |
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And like you chose wrong when you went for tails |
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But how am I to forget you're there |
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With your skin under my nails |
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And it's always the same |
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And it's always the same |
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It is always the same |