Saturday, August 24, 2013


So we’ve got a mouse disease
Hurry off now my heart squeaks heart squeaks

And I fit through the shards of a champagne flute
You are a pain sweet Luke a pain sweet Luke

So catch me tight in the corner of your eye
I leave for you my neat diagnoses neat diagnoses

And all those things no man can see
Still piled beneath a book shelf left neatly left neatly

So you have got a mouse disease
Don’t you worry my heart don’t squeak don’t squeak

And in the trap is a torn black shirt
That begs of love RAPTURE begs of love RAPTURE

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