Swing me to the moon-
maybe grab a star-
I'm a freak and I love it-
I don't need a car.
My mind says it will take me-
anywhere I please-
my face looks like a meat cake
and my breath smells just like cheese.
Some would call me tasty-
others find me vile-
I like to think I'm golden
underneath this putrid pile.
Flesh won't make a difference-
I'm happy as can be-
that's why every night I'm out here-
swinging from this tree.
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