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Call me, and I will be your happy ghost |
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Call me, and cotton will come rolling out your mouth |
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Call me, and we will build a family |
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The cold, dark thing |
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Didn't he die, in a lake |
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In a pit or a plane or a place where he'd never get free from again? |
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Didn't we push and shout |
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And beat all the evil away into powder and medicine? |
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Our future is looking bright as teeth |
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Our future is looking bright as bedsheets |
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I hear you: I've made a couple major tweaks |
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I don't smoke now. I promise you that I will never die |
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I heard you, calling me with feathers out your teeth |
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The brown bird, the bright brown bird that broke the window |
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Didn't she stop, with the sound |
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With the coil of word on the tip of the tongue like a painted snake? |
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Didn't she choke? didn't she swim? |
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Didn't she drag herself out of the house and to just go dissolve again? |
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Our future is looking good as throats |
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Our future is looking good as clenching |
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When we were married all my hair fell out |
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When we were married |