Please don't tell me what you think while I tell you about The copse that I retreat to where I'm hemmed in by the Larch Where nobody can bother me and the voices in my head Cease their Dif Juz ramblings for a while
I was best man dead in our road four years on the run Always chose the same demise, dehydration on a long jog
Where once you wiped away my tears and cleaned my grazed knees You hang-glide with the Numanoids and snub my rare disease The one in which I get these silly visions in my mind And have to write them all down for the nurse
Gazza in a Mozzer mask goofing by the pool Eating all the Caramacs, howay cemetery gates
I said to Jesus, \'How much do you love me?\' He said \'This much\' and he stretched out his arms and died And I thought to myself: is that a stock reply? Or are there exceptions for the likes of REO Speedwagon Speedwagon
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