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friend is a tree, and in his spare time he's a stockbroker. Gervaise Brook-Hampster (M.P.) is in the Guards, and his father uses him as a wastepaper
a pillow And as naked as sin I'm backed to a corner With a wastepaper bin Then up on the mattress There's no place to go I'm guilty yes guilty But there's no
another's hands My life as the Mona Lisa Turned to a wastepaper game Of hangman I hate how nothing ever goes to plan I feel so up and down about My
was you It is not too late, friend It is not too late, it's never too late, yeah I remember every chance I threw away A wastepaper basket filled up with
on the waste-paper? Twisted Can you see it? Do you see it changing? Do you see the colors Melting and rearranging? Are you scared? I'm not scared I don't think I am No,
wastepaper basket? You'll wish you never asked it You patronising bastard I'm gonna drive in and park my car so you're completely blocked in And I might even
and dead hair Wastepaper bin or storage jar A curious cadaver My name is Lindsay Carcass My name My name My name My name
years And there are fourteen years at least To accomplish our tasks When you are 40 Let others Younger and more valiant Coerce him into the wastepaper
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