There's the one staying put in his proper place
And the one with his foot in the other one's face.
Apparently, singing is not conducive to the workplace and I've been let go.
The lyrics that kept spouting out were written for a musical in which the lead is a murderous barber and it made customers "uncomfortable."
What in the hell am I supposed
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I made it run
Made it race against time
Once, I built a railroad
Now it's done
Brother, can you spare a dime?
I'll cover some of the costs, but the moment this all-singing all-dancing garbage is done with you're looking for a new job.
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