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What has not got my heart in it, shall we be dubbed sir names? |
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With a million blither tongues, mounting bristling guilt frames |
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In the fake ache of the gloom loom, slippers slap me alive |
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The hour hands down a miracle to spend with ugly types |
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So we catch and thread a minstrel, bleed a tower down to it's ankles |
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So we can't go up or stay up, find the thumb dumb in your ear brain |
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Get unfunny such as choirs do, why the clock lock brought this one? |
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Just when things seemed so [Incomprehensible] |
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Like my tooth face, like my out-do |
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Capers, capers, capers |
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Capers, capers, capers |
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Oh, a streak, oh, treacly ink, inks, tied my knees all up in elbows |
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Erase that lapsing smile tub, lose the slip of the small soap-fellows |
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Account the add ups till I do not, are we balanced? We're in business |
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Idle tidal, rush in, tried all with a limb's, all legs and amour |
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I had a dreadful die hood, die hard, drunken, sunken, monk-heart |
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Oh, I had a wonderful die hood, thanks to my fa, fa, family |