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(doctor davis, telephone please...doctor davis, telephone please)I'd catapult downtownTo see the galleriesAnd my favorite fianceeIn a lavender gownBut I'm hooked up to a machineIt performs my daily functionsThrough a tube in my wienAnd today that thing malfunctionedLike a forest fireIt burnt a hole in me and I perspiredSo there ain't gonna be a weddingNo love affairNo art to which none compares
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