| In the era of the hypnoprism
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| In the wake of the collapsing pound
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| I met an exquisite Algerian travel agent
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| With a horror of sound
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| I’m a little misunderestimated
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| I can measure up to nothing much
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| Give me half a chance I am a crippled tiger
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| And you are my crutch
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| I’ve been following a dismal gollum
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| Like a pierrot follows Columbine
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| And there’s going to be a horrid harvest
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| When the water turns to wine
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| And I love you like I love the wriggly
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| And you lick me like a spotted dog
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| You’re my velvet azure from Algeria
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| And we bone in the fog
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| Acts of love on astrakhan carpets
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| In the apartment of Salvador Dali
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| With a white imperial bastard colonist
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| Who looks a lot like me
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| I’m a little misunderestimated
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| I will give you back your piece of cake
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| I’ve only eaten one bite of it
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| Anyone could make the same mistake
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| If I give you too much information
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| Defriend me on the next bardo
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| I have a horror of communication
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| But I so long to know
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| I’ve got a spotty case of alopecia
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| I’ve been howling like a haunted dog
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| And I’ve been having sex in prison
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| Like a bone in the fog
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| I’m at home amongst your sombre reptiles
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| Basking in your garden lair
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| And I like to speak the words the tortoise uses
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| To outfox the hare
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| And there’s a scent of candlewax on pinecones
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| And you look a lot like Sylvia Kristel
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| And I’d like to call you Princess Tenderloin
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| Or simply Mirabelle
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| I’m a little misunderestimated
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| And I’m older now than Ezra Pound
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| Don’t check your wallet there’s nothing in it
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| I’ll see you around |