"Have you always had those things on your face?" he said
Have you always been the saddest garcon
I wonder if the freckles hibernate
Have you always had those things?
He sings through life at an inaudible hum
And the people who pass by often see him as dumb
But the boy, he's got a beard on his chin
Yeah the mans got a habit of living life on a whim
With the rugged face that is his,
Concussed ruckuses is what the boy's function is
Gumption divided by, that's twice as high
He is those things
Taps on top
Fizzy pops don't explode
If your lucky Ricky won't start to blow
I wonder if convenience is the means
Have you always thought those things?
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