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| When letting my eyes gaze over the wall / That hours before had looked oh so fine / I realized that fingerpainting the lot of it all / Was to be considered the most hideous crime. | |
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| Then I looked at my fingers, the stains of red / Which sight made me think even more / If upon planning the art in my head / I should have reconsidered the use of gore. | |
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| Gaining my last insight I trembled with fear / It drove me to deeply regret what I did / Killing the nanny had been a foolish idea / For my diapers grew full of shit. | |
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