"Come on, keep playing, Davey. If your head's full of music, there's no room for the demons to put the thoughts about Mother's sweet silky skin and the glint of the knife as it sta湧O! Camptown ladies sing this song, doo-da, doo-da, Camptown race track's five miles long, oh the doo-da dayyyyyyy."
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Wow, we have really given up on the Breakfast at Tiffany’s feminine ideal and totally put all our eggs in the “homeless Cyndi Lauper at a garage sale” basket.