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je t'aime...moi non plusher name's fluffyshe's got the world on a stringi think vanity is its own sinokhe loves me notthis tangled web we weavesome call it a fetishall that i ask is that i know where you arepretty birdthe grimy scraps of withered leavesdrunk puppetthese boots were made for walkingthe hanging gardennot if i could sing like a birdromantique desesperenarcissussend me dead flowerslove birds