| The monk of chaos said he’ll play us a cassette*
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| That he made with Amadeus but we haven’t heard it yet
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| I suspect that he’s mad-wrecked on that stuff that I wrote him
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| Now it’ll take at least all week to unfold him
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| I told him
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| Slow down you’re burning more than nitro-glycerine
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| He wasn’t listening so now he’s stoned magnificent
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| See he went at it like an addict mad manic
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| Amsterdamic, don’t know what it is but he’s looking at it
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| We just come & go
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| Like reindeers in the snow
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| But they don’t see us though
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| We’re one & two like stereo
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| The sister of the lord she’s on her skateboard I see her
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| Flying down the corridors as she does her chores
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| 360 degrees off the railings, she’s abseiling
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| She meta-morphs into an alien
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| And now she’s down in St. Martin’s crypt
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| She’s putting words to Beethoven’s 5th in the style of Patti Smith
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| I can still see were we used to live
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| We haven’t gone far enough
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| We just come & go
|
| Like reindeers in the snow
|
| But they don’t see us though
|
| We’re one & two like stereo
|
| We just come & go
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| Like peepholes in the snow
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| But they don’t see us though
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| We’re one & two like stereo |