She misses her crawling chameleon
She misses her bathtub gin
He's shirtless, hairless, and careless
Her love he'll never win

A comb a clock a towel, some rum
In the morning, before the sun, I walk
I'm looking for a side where I can thumb
Before I bust this head, break this lock

I'll be returning soon , dear Clara
Where I can hold you
The sun and moon can conspire
To help me find a way through

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