When I die you can cut me up and take all that you please,
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But pity the poor dumb fool who gets my bleeding spleen.
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Corn pone, I born tomorrow, my bone marrow protein filled
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Scotch whiskey Men of Tain have come to split your skills.
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Hey, hey
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I got your heaven, I got your burning hell, I got it all right here.
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Wrap them tight in zip-lock bags to benefit good medicines.
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If bad, you can toss them back and stuff them in sausages.
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Isn't it something so becoming, a gentlemen of good taste.
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The appetizer's quite the pleaser, but might you pass the pepper please this way.
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Hey, hey
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I got your heaven, I got your burning hell, I got it all right here.
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Fertilizer makes your corn row higher, but makes your back yard stink.
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And all the crows know where the wind blows, where water sinks.
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Hey, hey
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I got your heaven, I got your burning hell, I got it all right here.
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Spleen Merchant
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Clutch |