My love is like a hamster
So tender on the page
My heart is like a drunken bat
My liver, filled with rage
My cancer isn't funny
My lips are almost healed
The whirling of my living room
Will never, ever yield
My mind is like a preacher
Who's drunk from rotten figs
My every waking thought involves
Putting shoes on pigs
I've looked at all my fingers
I think I'll have some peas
I'll send electric toilet seats
To farmers in the trees
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