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There is a house in London |
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Where even in winter time |
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The windows are always open wide |
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There is a house in London |
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Where incense burns at all hours |
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Concealing a much less pleasant smell |
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A sour stench that mingles with |
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The scent of burning oil |
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There in Melrose Avenue |
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So many guests come and go |
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Some come to stay |
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Some of the guests come to stay |
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At one hundred ninety five |
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So many people come and go |
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But too many guests come to stay |
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Neatly lined under the boards of the floor |
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Summertime |
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The maggots are crawling everywhere |
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Smoke can't keep the flies away |
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Dennis finds harder to tidy up the house |
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Tossing salt upon the rotten flesh |
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Wiping it away to rid the bodies of worms |
[04:49.000] |
Extracting bowels, liver, heart, and lungs |
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Dissecting corpses, packing limbs and head |
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To carry them easily to their funeral pyre |