| You tell me that you love me when I’m lying by your side
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| You tell me that I am the only one who understands your troubled mind
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| That I am blind to any evil you can do
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| And that I love you more than any other girl could ever do
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| You love the things that I love: you love art and you love books
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| And you love love as much as I do and you love my dirty looks
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| And you love me right now
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| So how can you love… Vegemite?
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| It tastes like sadness
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| It tastes like batteries
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| It tastes like asses
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| I cannot hold a man so close who spreads this cancer on his toast
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| It is the Vegemite, my darling, or it’s me
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| You have to make a fucking choice
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| I cannot sit with you at breakfast
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| The very smell of it obliterates my senses
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| And if that weren’t bad enough you also eat the shit for lunch
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| Which means we can’t spend any time together
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| What kind of relationship is that?
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| The choice is yours, my heart is in your hands…
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| Please wash your hands
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| You just ate Vegemite for lunch you selfish bastard
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| It’s all about you, isn’t it?
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| It’s just take, take, take, take
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| What about me? |
| What about my feelings?
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| I’m sorry
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| I had this really awful experience when I was six years old
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| And our British next door neighbor, Christopher Gill, he was babysitting us
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| And he made me eat an entire spoonful of Marmite
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| Which is just like Vegemite pretty much except it’s even grosser
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| He made me eat it by telling me it was chocolate fudge
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| And so I swallowed the whole thing and then I had to go to the bathroom and
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| throw up
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| And it really traumatized me and I’m sorry I got so emotional, I just…
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| I love you, and no matter what you eat
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| I’ll always love you completely
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| I might just always leave the room at meal times
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| Or refuse to kiss or touch you for a week
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| If you insist on putting that foul death paste in your mouth
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| You’re in my heart, but put yourself inside my shoes
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| I have to know, it shouldn’t be too hard to choose
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| I know it’s tearing you apart, but it’s the way it has to be
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| It is the Vegemite, my darling
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| It is the Vegemite, my darling
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| Put down the Vegemite, you fucker, or I’ll leave |