| Was it my teeth or my tongue that said, «Glue shut your lips, let us take a
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| rest»?
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| Oh, my mouth is a factory for every toxic part of speech I spew
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| Late, languorous, and afraid to ask
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| Caught my reflection in some seawashed glass
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| Oh, my face is unable to convey how very awfully I’m doing
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| Laugh out of habit at the lump schematics
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| I smoked my senses, it made me so demented
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| I see me and you with the kennel cough
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| Signaling the sleuth of the trail we trot
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| Expansion rattles out this old lump
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| Bats get bristled, the imps heat up
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| Spoon out the sweet stuff for street-wise smut
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| Oh, my gut absorbs the fiercest blows, you never thought you’d have to throw
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| Laugh out of habit at the lump schematics
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| My psychic tenses make me so defensive
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| I see me and you in the tiger tank
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| Swimmin' as they yowl, soon they’re tearing us
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| Limb from every limb to the kennel cough
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| Limb from every limb to the--
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| Don’t even care if they take my legs
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| I’ve limped before, I could limp again
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| Though my limp is not able to display how very awfully I’m doing |