Peel that onion
I’ve got my whole life
when I get to the middle
I’ll switch to a knife
cut the heart out of it
hold it in my hand
the beating pulse of all my life
this happy brother’s band
it smells so delicious
frying in the pan
I know I will not sleep
till I’ve got this one in the can
the message of the happening
is every layer counts
and I’ll be lost among them
till I balance my accounts
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