I'm hung, stung by pink dung;
I feel, steal a glance,
And now as we have rung
In this new time Let's dance.
Pink in the air, a Dionysian view;
I speak, wreak smoke in the air,
Even though I do seem a bit blue
I have a lot to care of and fare.
The pink dung is sweet to taste;
Let's sing, drink, fling hot balloons,
Lest this time goes to waste
And we lose time even before it's too soon.
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