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it that how its told now
is it all so old
is it made of lemon juice
doornob
ankle
cold
I was once a treehouse
I lived in a cake
but I never saw the way
the orange slayed the rake
I was only three years dead
but it told a tale
and now listen little child
to the safety rail
now my song is getting thin
ive run out of luck
time for me to retire now
and become a duck