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i had a little monkey
i sent him to the country and i fed him on gingerbread
along came a choo-choo, knocked my monkey coo-coo
and now my monkey’s dead
at least he looks that way, but then again don’t we all?
(what i make is what i am, i can’t be forever)
i had a little monkey
i sent him to the country and i fed him on gingerbread
along came a choo-choo, knocked my monkey coo-coo
and now my monkey’s dead
poor little monkey
«make you…break you…make you…break you…lookout»
(what i make is what i am, i can’t be forever)
we are out own wicked gods
with little «g’s» and big dicks
sadistic and constantly inflicting a slow demise
i had a little monkey and i sent him to the country
and i fed him on gingerbread
along came a choo-choo, knocked my monkey coo-coo
and (k)now my monkey’s dead
the primate’s scream of consonance is a reflection
of his own mind’s dissonance

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