| From your chair, my narrative tonight
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| Is your dickless cousin, brother, father, pet, friend, husband or wife
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| A lavender scent
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| A bone-orchard of hearts seems to surround you
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| As you stare each gift horse straight in the mouth
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| Stare my arrow down
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| I was invited, I was called out to watch you frolic
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| And dance
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| Oh, I buried my head in my hands
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| I buried my heart there in the sand
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| I was cock-blocked, cured, encharmed
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| I was ferociously put upon until it was clear
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| I should not keep on, I’ll just creep on creepin' on
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| Yes I will, I’ll not keep on
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| I’ll just creep on creepin' on
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| Fell out of this station to levitate your bed
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| And move her hair on to my chest
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| Exposing her neck and I tear through
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| Put you into my arms
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| And my stomach dropped as you shifted me off to stop
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| The ectoplasm coiled like a hovering halo of smoke
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| And our beloved invention
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| Is conjured each night in your throat
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| Oh, I buried my head in my hands
|
| I buried my heart there in the sand
|
| I was cock-blocked, cured, encharmed
|
| I was ferociously put upon until it was clear
|
| I should not keep on, I’ll just creep on creepin' on
|
| Yes I will, I’ll not keep on
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| I’ll just creep on creepin' on
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| Or do I try one more time?
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| No, I’ll not keep on
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| I’ll just creep on creepin' on |