| Sour metal smells in a lonely barrel
|
| Don’t render me the sorriest parody
|
| Potty gobbed fickle mob clamour for climax
|
| Don’t render me the sorriest parody
|
| Be blasted or be lambasted instead
|
| Don’t render me the sorriest parody
|
| Cheerio chaps, cheerio goodbye
|
| Cheerio chaps, even cheer me if I die
|
| For me snivelling, for me suffering, for me constant cowering… I get this
|
| My pain played back, like crude happy slap, and for the laugh… I get this
|
| Another cosmos, beneath the big top, when I belly flop… I get this
|
| I get this, I get this, I get this, I get this
|
| No not hugged or hand shook
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| Just left bereft, well walloped, wanting to have hopefully have wept
|
| So I gloat with gritted grin
|
| To cheat my chin into keeping the womanly webbling in like
|
| Cheerio chaps, cheerio goodbye
|
| Cheerio chaps, even cheer me if I die
|
| For me snivelling, for me suffering, for me constant cowering… I get this
|
| My pain played back, like crude happy slap, and for the laugh… I get this
|
| Another cosmos, beneath the big top, when I belly flop… I get this
|
| I get this, I get this, I get this…
|
| Requiem in a circus tent, requiem in a circus tent, requiem in a circus tent,
|
| requiem in a circus tent |