“Out, out – out of my way!
Don’t touch me at all,
But do as I say.
A brush on the arm
Can cause me harm
When it’s the Brush of Death
I’m awaiting.
Don’t breathe.
Your air – from inside you
– coming out at me.
How very horrible.
It now has pieces of you,
And it will corrupt.
No, don’t listen to me.
Stop up your ears and turn away.
They’re my words
And my thought
Not to be sold
And not to be bought.
Out of my mouth
From between my teeth.
Don’t you know how personal that is?
Allow me.
Allow me!
I’ll open the door, and I’ll let you enter.
Demand what you want – don’t be afraid to ask.
Make them fill your request.
I come here for bread,
And I come here for cake.
You can trust me.
Would I lie?
They don’t mind me,
They’re used to my song.
It’s entertainment, you see,
And it’s free.
Chew them up.
Enjoy them!
Those muffins look so good.
I’m only a madman in a bakery,
But I know how to eat.”
DE
(image)www.suitcaseandheels.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/10/Praktik-Bakery-Barcelona-Hotel-13.jpg
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