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Stiller Has
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Garbage Lady
I love the ketchup on your lips I love the dogshit on your shoes I love the greenspan on your clips Oh Garbage Lady, I got the blues
I love the ranced grease in your hair I love your blind eye's broken glass I love your mouldy underwear Oh Garbage Lady, I don't care
You look that kind of hook You smell that kind of hell You taste that kind of waste That I must fall in love with you
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