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    Between Right and Wrong is a Fluffy Mouldy Doughnut
  by Sam Freek

I am more at war with myself at night
Where are you Mr Fat Conroller
I am not a building there is no danger

The man with a flea in his pocket didn't reach his targets
Pushing pixels into the lumpy pudding
I tilt my head back and my mouth falls open

Bagged an extra life as I found the harp
Mission control tried to destroy us as we weren't ready
The bone shaker played a fast drum beat

Your organs get you a wage rise
Struck oil but it turned out to be a bag of bad jokes
Disorder in my shaky legs and wobbling head

I trot off to town like a superhighway
Wearing wet t-shirts with porn stars on
The squirrel rode his bike into my safe space

They all turned on each other and made a flan
You gave up working again
Pulled all the fun out of life just to save a pickled egg

You looked in a bad way yesterday ding dong
Lost sympathy which froze your hands shut
Counting down to become a public figure

Between right and wrong is a fluffy mouldy doughnut

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