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Friday is when I buy the Ealing Gazette And go to Ladbrokes for a bet I look at that back to study the horse's form And in between the article of those who are dead and born Whilst chewing on some toast and a cup of luke warm tea I see the singles ads about those wanting love just like me So I put my hand in my dirty jeans on the floor And get my mobile out and dial up one of those ads, well ok 4 Some of these girls want love, others one night stands And a tall man, good looking who understands After leaving a few messages I think it's not worth it And think I can get buy on life without a fondle on a tit Vote for this poem
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