| He believes that saying sorry
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| Might save him from the Lord
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| Black clouds indicating
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| He struck the wrong chord
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| With the powers that reside
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| In neon glowing towers
|
| He sits by the bedside
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| Browsing poetry as he cowers
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| Reflective tiles erected by
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| Three wise men set you free
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| With the hands of Houdini
|
| So they lie and then you smile
|
| And everything will turn out fine
|
| And their ethics of corruption
|
| Are bordering on divine
|
| Don’t worry, you won’t dissolve
|
| You’re not Speedy in Alka-Seltzer
|
| You should calm your mind
|
| Serotonine powered pills (?) |