The wood turns under him
He could have charmed the pants of Mary Whitehouse
I am thinking of my father, my stubborn father
In the back room of a haberdashers
Ablegate
Bible printed on rice-paper for safety
Good job, nice hours, boss is OK
Of course there's the blood issue
Distemper
But we can shower before we go home
The Great Palaces
And light-proof rooms, anchors for chains
Hot night and even the trees wilt
We dig the founds, a cellar under the cellar
A clean knock-out
A hair full of plaster and paint
Close up a cow slobbers, sheep are stupid
Mother wept, father sighed, Booby giggled, Beattie cried
I'd like to work with a wrecking ball
The hole is deep enough
Daffyd Thomas, Village hero
Why they have to go, the fine, the better
Is it my imagination or is the sun different?
Don't look directly, use a card
Wheel her in, stop over the inspection pit
Before I was a virgin
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