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 Grandeur Of Melancholy

Waffles Are Red, Possums Are Smelly

Dappe got stabbed in the face
with a macaroni panting. And a fake mustache to trace.
That he had washed and dry cleaned.
All over it's face that's a well scrubbed tube of toothpaste.

Hungry like a tuba.
Thirstier then a turnip.

Without a trace that DJ
sold many many many things
but he didn't sell waffles!

Sterilized the surgery all
before it was noon time
and he was hungry for a
bacon and egg but they stopped little
before 11 o clock and he new his paintings
were wrong so he ran them back to the grocery
store to see what he could trade for.

The waffles were by noon
more then what you say offensive.
Then the washer machine could handle
and it created a new television show
it's called Mr.Drop? but it was a robot
an evil robot that Madeira evil red waffles.
Possums made them and they smelled worse they
used to waffles to cover the smell as best they
could with maple syrup and fans but it was no use.
They plead to spare them, as we beat them with justice.
And gave them a snack of justice, tasty waffles.

Stolen my cheesy poofs on that damned green
rough spot tear away at the good stuff.
Leave my side- get back the game boy advance.
Seal a toaster to make Pop Tarts with.
And buy me a cheese layered bunt cake for 8.

Dance with the smurfs
just this once
get into a fruit costume
for your fictional human actors.
And get the ultimate role playing the staring Cucumber Pikachu.

And dance for all the pweeks.

Star studded bow biz cut off
my ear to buy my new career.

Unlock the drawer with the tape
for a new episode, or watch me
pee my pants.

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