| My heart it goes out to that poor little Dutch boy
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| Who stopped a great flood with the tip of his thumb
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| Through parades and medals he felt no joy and took to his bed with a bottle of
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| rum
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| The queen she arrived in her motorcade to give the good
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| Dutch boy a commemorative pen, but he watched as the milkmaids all withered and
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| grayed
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| And he knew that the waters must rise again
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| Because the world is made up of milk and scissors
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| Milk and scissors in a spiraling chain
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| Milk and scissors like a cheap squirting flower
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| Milk and scissors like worms when it rains |