i’ve seen your place before, i’ve tread thid field?
i bought a plastic light, my separate ceiling blade
my city to the scope, my? spokes
but she’ll never never know
my? has a?
i come from lots of?
my very modest tricks
my pr-cks and belly rose (?)
my operation blows
my big pollution grows
i never spoke of flood
(aaarrgghh! okay, i give up for now; this may not be right, but at least i tried!
i’m sure it will all come to me in a dream one night with
a man on a flaming pie clearly spouting the words to this
song. i’ll get back with you… deborah)