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Fruiting around
I fell down a tree in June,
And I hit Newton's head, that goon, He wrote some theory about me, But that couldn't be foreseen. I hit his head with a big ba-aaam, At least I didn't turn to ja-aaam, I just bounced down the cold street, Seeing no-one nice to meet. My anticipation has deceived me, No-one really wanted to see me, I kept looking everywhere, But it seemed no-one was there. No baby. So whe-eeere did my orange go, My sweetie who would never kno-ooow, That she was my star, my insolation, She pulled me close like gravitation. Would she eee-ver know? I remember, That you're pretty like a cake, At least your makeup isn't fake, Because you're nothing but a fruit, You're an orange, I'm the coot. Damn, oo-ooh shoot. You're soo-oh - reee-eed, you're so bluuu-ue baby, The ripest of all fruits, yeah mayyy-beee, You're - So - Sweet, So nice and neat. |
I will paypal you $100 US to sing that.
EDIT: I'm completely serious. Really. Serious. |
Quote:
In Latin. |
Nah I don't feel like moving to Sweden.
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