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The story of my life, well let's just say it's a fork and a knife |
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there's one thing on my mind, one thing all the time |
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I got to fill my mouth |
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got no favorite meal, I say every meal is clean if it fills me up for real |
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my belly's big and it's just a start, my appetite is my heart |
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when I had enough I just through up and laugh |
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This time, it's not a cow, it's kind of personal, can't explain to you why |
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this time, it's not a cow, so mr.PC are you ready to bow |
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Breakfast in bed, the bed's in the kitchen so it's easy to be fed |
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and when I'm fed, yes, when I'm fed, I go back to bed |
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food and sleep-watch, the thing should keep me from having too much |
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sometimes it feels that I could kill for desert |
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The story of my life, a big fork and the sharpest knife |
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I guess this solid bridge leads me on to the nearest fridge |
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not a pig, sheep, chicken, moose, duck, snake, horse or a frog |