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Lyrics
(One, two, three, four)
By smirking prank of fate
We find ourselves dancing late
Like young reprobates
By the milky light of the mighty moon
Find someone to nuzzle to
And waltz from the room
We're all quiffed and cropped
This is our lot
We hold each other up heavy with hops
By smirking prank of fate
We wiggle and kick like bobbing bait
And wait for a bite
By the milky light of the mighty moon
Find someone to nuzzle to
And waltz from the room
We're all quiffed and cropped
This is our lot
We hold each other up heavy with hops
My darling, my dumpling
My plump heart a-thumping
Begging you to come to me
I couldn't be more ready, I couldn't be more ready
A glottal stop, bottled up
Waiting for the penny drop
We're all quiffed and cropped
This is our lot
We hold each other up heavy with hops
Writer(s): Christopher Robert Talbot, Hayden Norman Thorpe, Ben Little, Thomas William Fleming
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