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Ubu

 

Herein

The carnations are for me
Put them here, put them here
The carnations are for me
Put them here, put them here

Today we'll walk for
The coronation march
Sounds like a funeral procession

Death holds its siege in the king's crown
I've got a crown round my tooth
It's full of rottennes

Food is for fools
And the fool is the jester of the king
He's entering Saint Vitus's dance
O dance, o dance, o dance

March's a beautiful month
Especially in Spring
Of my springing, of my springing, of my springing

I'm tired, good night