| He wants to be the big shot in your eyes
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| «But he’s in flux memorandum!»
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| Caught behind two fuck fearing awful bloodshot eyes
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| «Oh god he’s coming closer!»
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| He’s Mr. Best, center of everyone’s conversation
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| And repelled by his wince
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| We’d like him best to be strung up
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| Just like a constellation
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| At least he’d finally be a star
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| Bring in Mr. Turkey and have him sing along
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| «I got the stories to tell ya!»
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| Wrap him up in rat skin and rock him until his sleeps
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| And push him on down stream!
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| Light up the whole place and have him dance for us
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| He’s got a past of obsessions!
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| Write up a story and have him read out loud
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| The voice rings of apparitions!
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| Now this one wants to sit in the back and complain
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| And draw attention to everyone of his pains
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| He eats that shit, to feed the shit in his veins
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| Like this one is different when it’s all the same
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| He’s Mr. Best. |
| Center of everyone’s conversation
|
| Repelled by his wince
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| We’d like him best to be cut open in the console cavern
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| At least he’d make history
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| He walks through the tavern just like a squid
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| Dripping salt water discharge!
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| Flops on the bar and proceeds to slither right on in
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| Envelopes bottles like he does ships!
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| Very quick
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| I know that you want to be or be square
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| You want to be there, to be there, to be there
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| You want this to be fair, to be fair, to be fair
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| He wants to be there, to be there, to be there
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| He came down by the hole. |
| Jumped right on in
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| He had no lungs so he didn’t bother to swim
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| Take all the women. |
| Take all kids
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| Throw the dirt in and show him we’re still friends |