| I likes to eat my friends and make no bones about it
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| I likes to eat my friends, I couldn’t do without it
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| Ain’t a man or poet, friend, I know just how you’ll taste
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| Your limbs go sliding down my throat and never go to waste
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| Your death, of course, will sadden me, until I grok your essence
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| I know your life was not in vain when digestion is commencing
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| Consider this a celebration and the deepest pact of friends
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| And I hope that you will dine on me when I come to an end
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| Friends…
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| Even friends may come to you with a new found revelation
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| But think of it as life renewed and not their termination
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| «To know you is to eat you» should be the code of lovers
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| Death brings the highest act of love preserved for one another
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| Friends…
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| People say that what you are is only what you eat
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| And my friends become a part of me, oh well it’s then that life’s complete
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| To know you is to eat you, the act of love supreme
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| Each one of us inside himself can appetize the dream
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| Friends… |