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2002-08-04 - 6:56 a.m. There's 12 gates to the city A 12 gauge for my pity I refuse to feel sorry for myself There's much more to me than feeling It's the walls that raise the ceiling And I know I can get down from this old shelf But I coddle my excesses Go for that thing which impresses It's a narly tangled root here in my throat I have ten more drinks to lassenge See that sweet Vienna sausage? If she waves at me, I'll surely cross her moat. But it's just like time in traffic If I stay here I'll go spastic Don't you understand there's much more to this entry?!!? I guess I had you mistaken For more than Virginia bacon Perhaps it's better if I act like I'm eccentric. � � |