| The last two girls I stalked in my city went nowhere
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| The first dreamt of butterfly tattoos that flew from her hair
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| And curled around her belly
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| And the second wrote this awkward poetry
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| Ten lines, six fonts, four colors and all I can remember is
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| «Love is all I have to give»
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| We’re like love and train fare
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| We made monsters but monsters don’t scare
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| You, we worked for days but the conscience never came
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| We made zombies to fight your zombies
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| And now they stare each other out in the sanctuary on Saturdays
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| Mutton dressed as lamb
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| A wasted call from Birmingham
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| Brittany says «I don’t drink but if I did
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| I’d get smashed and head for the library»
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| Well, I do drink, I’ve done that and I still owe the money
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| How the champagne girls sit on the stand
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| And look out though the crowd
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| How nothing is wasted or compromised
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| The champagne girls won’t get you in
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| It’s like love and train fare, mutton dressed as mutton
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| Dressed as mutton dressed as lamb
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| How he walks like he could and he dances like he can
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| Mutton dressed as lamb |