| What is happening to me
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| And also to the old zombie i used to know?
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| Of course the words was once spectacular
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| Now we be talkin' de vernacular
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| Dis a strange kind of reactium
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| To de pig we et before
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| I’s immune to de resease
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| I 'spose from sucking up de grease
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| From de duo-denum drippings out of the pig before
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| I could laugh and rub my chin
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| When my resease come rolling in
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| It’s just like catching a second wind
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| I feel so gay
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| So might refer to me as scum
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| 'Cause where dey all be coming from
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| When de Galoot co-log-na rushin' down the ley
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| Is underneath some raggedy dirt
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| In de suburbian outskirts
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| Of ol' Manhattan traffick happen near the gay white way
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| I gets clammy saying «Mammy»
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| I gets chills all up my spine
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| I gets wistful wit a fist-full of venetian bline
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| Just like tuggin' on de heartstrings
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| Just like dem little ol' fallin' apart things
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| Just like whatever that is that is rotten, yessir!
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| We surely has not forgotten
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| How to pretend to sing
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| Now dis ol' twinklin' eye
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| Only suckers forced to buy
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| Dem 'spensive tickets we be sellin' at de door
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| Now we got Broadway zombie mammies
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| We got an ugly orphan Annie
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| And the traditium will go on, and on, and on
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| I loves to see de zombie fly
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| It sorta makes ya, makes ya wanna cry
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| 'Cause we’s Broadway, we’s expensive, and we can’t
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| I said we can’t
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| Can’t never die!
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| Can’t never die!
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| You’re too kind |