| Peter upped the stakes, a tongue for battle.
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| Cisae came to play, then ran for cover.
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| But I don’t know.
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| Just arrived home…
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| Soup is on the table,
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| Grilled cheese and campbells.
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| Fuel the troops for fighting.
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| I burnt my tongue,
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| but showed no sign of pain or fear.
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| Too much rain to fight today oh no.
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| Skinned up knees and grassy stains oh no.
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| We’ve got ground to stand today
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| and we won’t stay indoors…
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| Chupacabra’s on the wing.
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| Now come back down sir!
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| Bentley cleared his plate,
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| and then cleared Toto’s
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| Put my faith in Bear and Bartok!
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| You can hide, but I’ll smell it.
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| The stink of wet fur.
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| But you see I don’t mind it.
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| You can hide but they’ll find you.
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| My team of black birds.
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| You can hide, but they’ll find you.
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| They’ll see your tail behind the bush.
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| Well if we’re picking teams.
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| Stuck with piggy and his shallow breathing.
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| Don’t want him on my team.
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| No piggies, no piggies, (well smash that shit up).
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| I mean, if we’re picking teams…
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| and if we take this battle to the water,
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| you’ll be stripped of skin.
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| By the dancing otters (a cunning breed).
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| Do you feel that slime between your toes?
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| The screeching eels are singing.
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| «yah yah yah yah yah yah yah yah»
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| They’ll pull you down
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| and pluck your eyes
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| to eat them!
|
| Too much rain to fight today oh no.
|
| Skinned up knees and grassy stains oh no.
|
| We’ve got ground to stand today
|
| and we won’t stay indoors for anyone!
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| Little lumps of earth under their nails.
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| Little pink round boys that smell like moss.
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| Escaping out the door before she could
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| protect their noses from the frost.
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| Little fingers on the trigger,
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| their little minds right on the cusp
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| of pointing guns at one another.
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| Tree trimmers starting at the trunk.
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| Atop the neighbors dogs we set our course for North.
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| My comrade dug his spurs too deep
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| the bastard bit of course.
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| But on the back of Scout he and I took the lead.
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| We burst forward in the night.
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| We were using hands as guns they pulled their fingers
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| back like they had bows.
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| They grabbed their chests like they’d been shot.
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| We chucked crab apples forth like they were bombs.
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| And through the neighbors lawns over the miles of hedges
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| we tear up flowers melting soundless in their filthy beds.
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| Scout’s fur a mess of burs, my skin a swollen grey.
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| I patch his wounds up with my shirt and scrape the mud away.
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| Just beyond over the hill I see a pair of eyes.
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| our pace, just like the little mean red bouncing sphreres, it multiplies.
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| Just beyond, over the hill a glowing swarm of flies!
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| We point and shoot. |
| Never ask why.
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| Tree fingers and trigger fingers alike
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| both agree that this is a war.
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| I’ll be the dirt soldier.
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| Caught up in the great war.
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| I’ll be the dirt soldier.
|
| Sent off to…
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| Too much rain to fight today oh no.
|
| Skinned up knees
|
| and grassy stains oh no.
|
| We’ve got ground to stand today.
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| and we wont stay indoors for anyone! |