So what's it to you?You're down another 8 ballI haven't even got a cueAnd you look dreadfulWhen you jump to what you'll resort toSinging, Charles, we ain't gonna hurt youWhen there's fuck-all-else to doYou could eat the foam from the headrestYou could knock the wind out of my breathYou could kick the teeth into my headThere's no cause for concernSo what's it to you?You're down another 8 ballI haven't even got the cueAnd you look dreadfulWhen you jump to what you'll resort toSinging, Charles, we ain't gonna hurt youWhen there's fuck-all-else to doYou could eat the foam from the headrestI said there's no cause for—You could knock the wind out of my breathI said there's no cause for—And you could kick the teeth into my headStill, there's no cause for concernWe ain't gonna hurt youWe ain't gonna hurt youWe ain't gonna hurt youCause when there's fuck-all-else to doWe could eat the foam from the headrestI said there's no cause for—You could suck the wind out of my breathI said there's no cause for—And you could kiss the teeth into my headAnd still, there's no cause for concern
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