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Everybody gets it sometime, sorry |
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Virus, fire, gryoscope, lear jet, lorry |
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Choking on a chicken bone lurking in lunch |
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And you're dead, dead, dead! |
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But not Mr. Punch |
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That Mr. Punch, he's a rum one, ain't he? |
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Strapping as his yapping little wife is dainty |
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Hit her with a big stick, give her what for |
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And she's dead, dead, dead |
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On the crimson floor |
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(Repeat) |
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In the real world, all effects are causal |
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Amble backstage, see the sticks and swozzle |
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Talk to the Professor of the tricks of his trade |
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Ask him for his flask, it's only lemonade... |
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But |
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Here comes a Crocodile, here comes Clootie |
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Hear the Beadle wheedle, and the ghost of Judy |
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Rattling her ribs in rodomontade |
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They're all dead, dead, dead |
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In the old arcade |
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(Repeat) |