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Ode to Poors
04:38
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I'm walking, I'm looking. Searching for a friend
I found one, in the alley. In a trash bin
He's kicking, he's screaming. He's collapsing on the floor
He wants one, wants one. Will ya give him just a little more
He's tired, he's lonely. He's not anywhere home
He's not got one, he doesn't have one. Where will he roam?
Where... Does he sit?
On some sort of broken stool made from ivory?
Or on broken glass from a distant drunkards evening?
Oh where does he sit when he is tired when he is alone, when he is hungry?
oh where does he sit, oh where does he sit
in an alley puddle, in the midst of the road.
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I swallow a whole bottle of melatonin, just so I can sleep at night.
I keep myself locked up in a prison, inside of my mind. Inside of my mind.
I sleep with a warm wash cloth on my ears in my mind.
I sleep with a warm wash cloth on my mind every night.
Whatever makes me sleep more cleanly in these trying times.
Whatever makes me sleep more friendly in these trying times.
I wash my hands with napalm in these trying times, I wash my hands with napalm in these trying times, I wash my hands with napalm.
The napalm keeps me clean of the infectious disease. Don't say i'm getting fear mongered. Don't say i'm getting fear mongered. Don't say i'm getting fear mongered. I wash my hands with napalm in these trying times. I wash my hands with napalm in these trying times
I keep myself clean in these trying times, and I don't talk to anyone in these trying times
I keep my hands clean with napalm
napalm burns all the germs away
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