| Everything is food, everything is fair game.
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| The second it’s gone is the second I crave
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| more animal, vegetable, mineral feed,
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| more fodder, more fuel, more cake and ice cream.
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| In Scythia, where the pickings are slim,
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| I’m gorgeous and grateful it’s «in"to be thin.
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| Wan and pale, I court emaciation
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| in high style and endless mastication.
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| With cheekbones and ribs that tighten my skin,
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| wildly attractive and seductive as sin,
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| the closer you come, the more you want me,
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| the more you want, the more you want to be free.
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| There’s no slaking of thirst, no quenching of need,
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| and there’s never, ever enough to eat:
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| When the Gods get even They think of me
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| While you’re fast asleep to your bed I creep
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| As my breath you breathe as I give you a kiss
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| As I take my leave I leave you with this
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| As you wake so you dream of fish fowl and beef
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| And there’s never ever enough to eat
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| Where inherited wealth meets fine French cuisine
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| Where oodles of truffles and tarts and terrines
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| Where gavage is an art and foie gras is fatty
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| Where quail duck lamb sugar butter and spaghetti
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| There desire is infectious and fulfillment is lean
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| And there’s never ever enough to eat
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| does an ocean deny a river?
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| would a fire spurn the wood it craves
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| for heat?
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| like Narcissus and his lover
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| you can never have the other
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| you can never turn away
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| you can never lick the plate
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| clean
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| When the coffers are empty in lieu of defeat
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| I deal my daughter for camembert cheese
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| Here the story leaves me to my own device
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| As lips teeth tongue savor self sacrifice
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| And now the Hunter is prey and the Hungry are meat
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| And there’s never ever enough to eat |