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A squat greek sips his ouzo fingering his gold neck chain robust corn-fed american beauties lick the salty rim of margaritas in the corner lies a comatose musician dreaming on the job again you can't buy love but you can buy friends upon her breast a shiny crucifix holier than me i guess sheds friends like a snake sheds skin her laughter sounds so venomous in his corner lies the once proud musician thinking on the job again |