© Chris Port, 2010, martygull.co.uk.
All rights reserved.
All rights reserved.
Isn’t he odd?
Doesn’t he stare?
Bug him with small hateful eyes
Subtle software
Send in the spies
Isn’t he strange?
It’s been approved
Whether it’s truth or it’s lies
I need some proof
Send in the spies
Just when it’s stopped, start it again
Sleeping and waking ‘til shaking will make him insane
Taking down statements again of his pain and despair
Find me a stain
Something is there
Recourse to laws
Of course diktat
Revenge is sweet sauce on remorse
Sorry ‘bout that
But where are my spies?
Quick send in the spies
Let’s set him some traps
Isn’t he odd?
Has he no fear?
Losing his friends and his mind
And his career?
And where are my spies?
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