Aching to pupate Aching to pup-p-p-pate [repeats 4x] Pu-pupate, pu pate, Pu-pate, pu-pupate, pu pa-ate...
I should peddle butterflies There's a shortage in the city, I'll stand on the street corner All myserious and giddy, When the passers by pass by I will open up my trenchcoat, They will see the butterflies Dangling like fake rolexes...
Every morning I wake up With a purpose and a smirk I'll put on my fake moustache I'll drink heineken eat cornflakes...
Then I'll call my mum and dad Tell them that I'm doing fine, Or I'll write a tipsy letter To a real good friend of mine, Or I'll jump upon the bed Waltzing madly with the broomstick But before I leave the house I will paint my lips with lipstick...
But peddling is a dirty sport There's competition in the city, Everyone is on a street corner All mysterious and giddy. Some are selling bags and shoes, Some are selling books and gold, I've been standing here for days Not one butterfly's been sold...
And how I'm Aching to pupate Aching to pup-p-p-pate [repeats 4x] Pu-pu-pate, pupate, Pupate, pu-pu-pate, pu pa-ate.
[Thanks to Shavone (modern_moonlight_@hotmail.com) for these lyrics]
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