| I am having a lentil nightmare
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| Everything has gone black
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| Except for the lentils in the nightmare
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| And they’re a sort of greeny, yellowy sort of colour
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| Ah ah it’s the demon lentil king
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| With his phallics of blood crazed virgins
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| Riding on their motorbikes through the hurricanes of doom
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| To destroy everything in the universe
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| Wearing horrible viking helmets
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| And driving much too fast
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| And they are probably over the limit as well and
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| I bet they have not paid any tax either
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| Lentil nightmare
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| Kill kill kill I want veins in my teeth
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| Kill kill kill give me some kangaroo meat quickly
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| Lentil Nightmare
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| «and though for long he had lain low in the quietness and in the
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| Darkness, NOW WAS THE MOMENT and with one terrifying leap he sprang out of the
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| Wardrobe wearing nothing but his Y-fronts and a pair of Wellington boots and,
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| spying
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| Himself in the mirror, he ripped in to one of the most amazing lead solos
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| On the tennis racket since Jimmy Hendrix on the Lulu show, his machine heads
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| Glistening as he stood in a warrior pose thrusting through a wall of sound |
| His high precision fingers reaching a searing climax and he did make mighty
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| Battle with the empty bottles of Tizer on the bookshelf, and he did spend
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| 10 minutes in deathly combat with the duvet until it was vanquished and then
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| With stealth, he drew near his foe and in one all powerful blow he smote
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| The curtains bringing them down in a heap at his feet, and then he faced his
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| Adversary, does anyone have a mini-cab number?» |