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GOOD CAPTAIN CLACK Procol Harum Still scowling black good Captain Clack must eat his humble pie His bed is made the colours fade his eyes once wet are dry The naked muse who sits and chews tobacco off a tree removes his shoes gives way to booze and searches endlessly See the naked jumberlack sip his aphrodisiac Cotton-picking farmers three Though I lost my weather vane and of sense I have one grain I'm content sipping lemon tea

    



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