, only what became of you, dear. Spring can really hang you up the most Doctors once prescribes a tonic. Sulfur and molasses was the dose. But that doesn't didn't help one bit. My condition must be
work in the morning with that feeling in my head,. And my throat all scratchy and my face a little bit red,. But I know that the day does end and I will feel fine,. And I'm not sleeping alone or waiting
little one sings. And that big one plays the guitar. With a thimble on his finger. Runs it up and down the strings. . The bass player don't shave much. I think they're all a little bit, touched. But
time I bit my tongue. But now the blood in my mouth is filling up my lungs. (What the f?!). Cavity, killing me, cavity. (Rip me up, sew me shut). Cavity, killing me, cavity. Rip me up. You'll never keep
air?. Flash, slash! Glisten and gash! . She will ravash you, Madame Guillotine . Split, Madame just bit . Give her more to bite, she's a hungry queen . Sing, savour the sting . As she severs you, Madame