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Those numbers never rang true,
With me, I put it down,
To the gift of telepathy,
Kinda feels like information ferocity,
My mind is a hive to hypocrisy,
Kind feels like ESP.
Turn a page in the book of my company,
Sinking feeling kitchen anatomy,
Sneaking around with my visual capacity,
A bathroom drama looming ahead of me.
Feeling round - pulling down,
Hearing sound, never giving ground,
Like a raven hound, never duty bound,
You'd be in darkness found,
And I'd be in pleasure wound.
Don't tell me darling,
What you want from me,
Surprises supplied by ESP.
From the "Showbiz" LP.