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I took a sudden notion |
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To go down to the ocean |
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I'd got my sun-tan lotion |
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My flippers and my mask |
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In proper distribution |
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Of fully-formed ablutions |
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Formed an ocean of pollution |
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In which I daredn't bask |
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Some turds were teeny-tiny |
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And some were big and shiny |
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But they all fucked up the briney |
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In which I dipped my toe |
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If you go swimming in the shite-us |
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You'll get worse than dermititis |
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From the sea of grey detritus |
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Where the sewage ebbs and flows |
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There's no respite |
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From the cess-pit |
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No shelter from the pong |
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The poor old ocean |
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Is full of motions |
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Where the hell did we go wrong? |
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Like a lamb off to the slaughter |
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Pored myself a glass of water |
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I failed to spot I'd caught a |
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Little creature in my cup |
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I was well and truly bolleaux-ed |
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From the fires of hell that followed |
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T'was the cup of life I'd swallowed |
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And it almost did me up |
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Something coming |
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Through the plumbing |
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That should not be there at all |
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The glass is brimming |
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And things are swimming |
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And quite frankly, I'm appalled |
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I was a very hungry fella |
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I defrosted my paella |
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Came down with Salmonella |
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Three weeks intensive care |
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They failed to send technicians in |
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To check the air-conditioning |
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Which was unfortunately transmissioning |
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A case of Legionnaires |
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There's a malaise |
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In the mayonnaise |
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There's a poo-poo in the prawn |
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Where we missed them |
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In the system |
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Little germs are being born |
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There's no respite |
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From the cess-pit |
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There's no shelter from the pong |
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Where the hell did we go wrong? |