| Red inside, coal-black outside |
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| Each time he gives a thrust |
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| He cranes his neck against the dawning sky |
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| Getting relaxed, getting tense |
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| Married, but they seem to wait for the night |
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| Thinking it sinful, he doesn't dip it |
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| We have parents who peep through a hole |
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| He wonders if he ought to wash his clothes |
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| I think I'll wash my testicles with care |
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| Even the young ones are stooping |
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