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I was walking on the water when I saw a crocodile |
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He had daisies in his hat, so I stopped him for a while |
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He delivered me a message, a massage to soothe my stage |
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What it was was more then plug-up dosage more than daisy age |
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Conversation drew a rule, which the crowd will roar by millions |
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Mr. Crocodile said, "Dove, you must look |
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For now the villains try to hold you underwater |
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But one thing we all must heed Sony Walkmans keep us walking |
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De La Soul can help you breathe when you tread water" |
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As I walked along my journey, I thought, "What have I just learned?" |
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In a flash I saw commotion there was movement in these ferns |
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Silently the silence came, was it the end of my world? |
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I shouted out in fear, "Who's there? It's me," said Mr. Squirrel |
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"I've searched for you all over, now you're found no time to waste |
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We must find the preacher man, we must find the P.A. Mase |
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For my population's dying, and we're all in tune to doom |
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Like the daisy, I need water, I need chesnuts to consume" |
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"Mr. Squirrel," I said, "I'm sorry, but the problem can't be solved |
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If there's no one here to help, and no one to get involved |
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Always look to the positive and never drop your head |
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For the water will engulf us if we do not dare to tread |
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So let's tread water" |
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Now one weary day I woke, my alarm said, "Plug time's up" |
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Filled my bath up with the water, gargled with my gargle cup |
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As I bathed I felt a presence, and I'm sort of ticklish |
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I looked down and then around and I heard |
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"Hi! I'm Mr Fish, How do you do? As for me |
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I'm in tip-top shape today, cause my water's clean |
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And no-one's menu says Fresh Fish Fillet |
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See I look past all my worries, which is something you must do |
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Though you're fed up, throw your head up |
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With this advice ffrom me to you and that's to tread water" |
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As my day went unexplained, time was finding nothing fun |
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As I walked along the sidewalk, I heard "Psst, excuse me, Plug One" |
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From my Soul, De La that is, I hollered "Yes, are you talking to me?" |
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"No alarm meant," he said, "Let me introduce myself, I'm Mr Monkey" |
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"Mr Monkey, I pledge you slap of five |
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Now how does your problem meet?" |
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He said, "My bananas are at their ripest, but they all |
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Stand at three feet, my swinging hand is bandaged up |
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Could you help me with this chore?" |
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I brought him down to the Native shop |
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And bought him copies of the De La score |
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Which assisted well in his elevation |
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Now all bananas is at his grasp |
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He decided with this accomplished |
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He would put me on to the path |
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He to my to live by the Inner Sound, y'all |
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Which would bring me health in showbiz |
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Then to use them, not abuse them |
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And then in the words that got me to 'em |
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And that is to tread water |