She's a tramp and he's a loser
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In a smoky bar from Kafka's darkest dreams
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And the critics know what crap is hip to swallow
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It's all high volume
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Her leather comes off in the back room
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And a million screaming morons call it art
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So much fun is not fun any longer
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It's all high volume
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High volume
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As if I was the one to say
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If it's right or if it's wrong
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Close your eyes until it goes away
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Turn it up until you hear the song
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She's as sweet as skin, as deep as candy
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But if it sells they'll never wonder why
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'Til the posers and the preachers mate like mongrels
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It's all high volume
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High volume
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High volume
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Battle Hymn of the Repugnant
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Bad Examples |