| Jasper was fine but he had glass eyes
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| He crucified me with his pixie coloured lies
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| His hair was black, he had a bend in his back
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| He tied my cousin Eddy to the railroad tracks
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| The train it come, he started to run
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| Jasper C. Debussy that’s his kind of fun
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| Jasper was born with a moth in his mind
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| The moth was too soft on the curtain behind
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| He startled the face of a friend of my girl’s
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| He cut out her eyes and he wore them with furs
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| I get half the dues, wear my shoes
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| Tonight you might laugh while crying the news
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| 'Cos Jasper C. Debussy, that’s his kind of blues
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| Mama
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| Jasper he dressed in the darkest of clothes
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| He wears scarlet pantaloons and five foot one inch hose
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| His face is like a rock and his eyes like the night
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| He’s like a grim faced dog that’s looking for a fight
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| Silhouette looks like a furry Persian rat
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| When you see him coming mama, you’d better run
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| Because Jasper C. Debussy that’s his kind of fun |