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TISM
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Crime Against The Spirit Oo Poo Pee Doo
God gave you talent to sit on the bog And not be a genius and drop some more logs Sitting all day in the smell of your own shit When you got the ability to be T S Elliot So what if you could play Mozart when you were three And learn seven languages before you get paid Get your pianist, cut off your thumbs And if you're a linguist, chop out your tongue If you want my advice Mr. Jesus F Christ? Ha ha ha ha ho Go back to carpentry for the rest of your life And if you feel trifle and get time off from the boss Find the Son of God and nail him to the cross Lord have mercy
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