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Usa A− / A+ para ajustar el tamañoThe Pantaloon
Your grandpa diedWhen you were nineThey said he hadLost his mindYou have learnedWay too soonYou should never trust the pantaloonNow it's your turnTo be aloneFind a wifeAnd build yourself a homeYou have learnedWay too soonThat your dad is now a pantaloonYou are tiredYou are hurtA moth ate throughYour favorite shirtAnd all your friends fertilizeThe ground you walkLose your mindHe's seen too many stare downsBetween the sun and the moonIn the morning airHow he used to hustle all the peopleWalking through the fairgroundsHe's been around so longHe's changed his meaning of a chair nowBecause a chair nowIs like a tiny island in the sea of all the peopleWho glide across the very surfaceThat made his bones feebleThe end can't come soon enoughBut is it too soon?Either way he can't denyHe is a pantaloonYou are tiredYou are hurtA moth ate throughYour favorite shirtAnd all your friends fertilizeThe ground you walkLose your mindYou like to sleep aloneIt's colder than you knowCause your skin is soUsed to colder bonesIt's warmer in the morningThan what it is at nightYour bones are held togetherBy your nightmares and your frightsYou are tiredYou are hurtA moth ate throughYour favorite shirtAnd all your friends fertilizeThe ground you walkLose your mind
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