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Listen, these are not drunken as you suppose |
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It might not be 3 o'clock in the morning like it seems |
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The little children will be prescient |
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And the young men will see shows |
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And the old men will dream dreams |
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I found a typescript double-spaced |
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Printed out on a daisy-wheel so all femme |
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In the former Treatise, dear friend Theophilus it was placed |
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Written by Lisa which was present at the doings of them |
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I gathered all the tokens of the passion |
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People waiting for the promise of a father |
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Where have you heard of me in the past? |
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John baptized with water, now with wine |
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But don't weep, he'll make sure |
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Pricked in the heart the Wednesday after last |
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In a cash and carry next to Mt. Olivet and all around |
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Megan, Mary, Lisa and Kenisha, gave it out |
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"Stick with me or you'll reap the reward of iniquity" |
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Cashed out, carry the possession of a plot of ground |
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Well, the vapor of smoke came up from the earth beneath |
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Outside the bodega called 'Beautiful' |
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When it was whom with Sue and Kenisha |
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Under a silver-leaf wreath |
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Called not to fit to sit, might as well |
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Come half out of your mother's womb |
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I gathered all the tokens of the passion |
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People waiting for the promise of a father |
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Where have you heard of me in the past? |
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John baptized with water, not with wine |
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But don't weep, he'll make sure |
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Pricked in the heart the Wednesday after last |
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A light shined in the lodge |
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And the chain slipped off her hands |
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So to speak, she packed up her things and sailed to Cyprus |
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Sending greetings from Felix |
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With a 'Please put Paul on misunderstands' |
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Me, she and her all went home, gave up the boast |
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And left Lisa to type us |
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I gathered all the tokens of the passion |
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People waiting for the promise of a father |
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Where have you heard of me in the past? |
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John baptized with water, not with wine |
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But don't weep, he'll make sure |
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Pricked in the heart the Wednesday after last |