| I know something bout' your family
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| Enough to make your children cry
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| If mum and dad share genuine content
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| Then you should hear them scream at night
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| Don’t run away or call the cops
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| These are screams of pleasure
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| The fear and necessity
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| You might not understand
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| But cannot measure
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| Behind a factory door in Brunswick East
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| Is the horrible truth
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| That Timmy’s old man
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| Likes golden showers
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| Behind a factory door in Brunswick East
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| Is the horrible truth
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| That Mummy cuts Daddy with a knife
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| I need a place where I can feel my best
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| Shave my legs and wear a pretty dress
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| Away from adolescent surveillance
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| And no risk of desensitisation
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| There’s a place around the corner
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| That’ll let you in
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| Just rock up late and pay the rent
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| Where you can blur the lines of morals
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| But just don’t blur the lines of respect
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| Behind a factory door in Brunswick East
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| Is the horrible truth
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| That Milly’s old lady plays cats and babies
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| Behind a factory door in Brunswick East
|
| Is the horrible truth
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| That Mummy and Daddy are happy
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| It’s usually something that you’d do
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| But you just, wouldn’t tell anyone |