| Papposilenus, ugly satyr of the forest
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| Flat-faced, ears of horse, strapped to donkey, drunk as lord
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| Papposilenus, tutor to the wine-god
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| Bald, beef-lipped, bushy-eyebrowed, fat
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| Priapic buffoon, autodidact
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| You said «The best thing for a man is never to be born
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| Or die as soon as possible»
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| I completely disagree for I believe, you see
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| That life is wonderful
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| Papposilenus, with your flabby breasts and shaggy thighs
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| We laugh at you for sure, but when you’re drunk you’re wise
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| Papposilenus, you can tell us tales for five days straight
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| Pillows pushed up the tunic of the shabby actor who plays you
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| Like a pregnant woman swaddled in a hairy body-stocking
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| Funny yet shocking, bald, beef-lipped, bushy-eyebrowed, fat
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| But the biggest shock of all is how little you love life
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| You’d throw it away like that, you say
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| At the drop of a hat, you say
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| And the world still spins in space
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| Like a stupid wooden top
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| And we cling to it like ants
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| Trying to resist the centrifugal force
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| And you would say: «Use your brains
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| Make for the central place
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| Or never get on the damn thing in the first place!»
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| «The best thing for a man is never to be born
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| Or die as soon as possible»
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| I completely disagree for I believe, you see
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| That life is wonderful |