
Swag Talk One by Will Jones
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I knew what your swagger said
tasted the schadenfreude as stale bread
I left instead
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I felt a certain prowess
exited with a certain shyness alleged
I did digress
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I knew that drip and wetted finesse
played perplexed, inside my head
I played chess
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needless to say
klappe zu affe tot, I was still hot
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They didn't think I could really feel it
Leben wie Gott in Frankreich

As I swathe butter from
the Danish creamery on my biscuit
Du gehst mir auf den Keks