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Monday, October 10, 2005

Your mother and I have decided to abort you
Looking at the way our lives are going
It’s for the best you don’t come through
Our veins have so much drugs a-flowing
Sexually we still love choking
And she refuses to give up smoking

Your mother and I have decided to report you
For being born without consent
That’s anti-rape in my book, sonny
Illegal having of life with intent
So stop getting on my tits, mate
As Ive said before, I just don’t lactate

Your mother and I have decided to deport you
For heinous crimes not writ in law
You gurgle and babble like some kind of baby
Talk proper english or leave this fair shore.
To be loved is so rare and to know is still rarer
So Life is unfair but death is unfairer

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