| Lump sat alone in a boggy marsh
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| Totally motionless except for her heart
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| Mud flowed up into Lump’s pyjamas
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| She totally confused all the passing piranhas
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| She’s Lump, she’s Lump
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| She’s in my head
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| She’s Lump, she’s Lump, she’s Lump
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| She might be dead
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| Lump lingered last in line for brains,
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| And the ones she got were sort of rotten and insane
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| Small thing’s so sad that birds could land
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| Is Lump fast asleep or rockin’out with the band?
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| She’s Lump, she’s Lump
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| She’s in my head
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| She’s Lump, she’s Lump, she’s Lump
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| She might be dead
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| Lump was limp and lonely and needed a shove
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| Lump slipped on a kiss and tumbled into love
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| She spent her twenties between the sheets
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| Life limped along at subsonic speeds
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| She’s Lump, she’s Lump
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| She’s in my head
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| She’s Lump, she’s Lump, she’s Lump
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| I do beliveve that she’s dead
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| (Dead as a doornail)
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| Is this Lump out of my head, I think so
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| Is this Lump out of my head, I think so, yeah
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| Is this Lump out of my head, I think so
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| And that’s all I have to say about that |