After the ice-pick cold
pithed my skull
the leeches drew their blood
and sent me reeling out
for belly full
And pretty soon
got the pick again
it's a miracle
I can still count to ten
and what's the point
of these mundane tales
What's the point of anything
that won't drive sales
I used to think I had
all that jack dicked
but the pings and yarrows
just picked and picked and picked
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