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sitting in the corner

mr pop and fresh

a bloated useless mass of human fresh

when you hear the sounds as you walk in through the door

you'll wonder if he's ever seen a mixing desk before

his expression so blank

there's not a braincell in his head

he's screwed our sound again

i wish he'd drop dead

drool runs so silently from his mouth to his chin

always makes me wonder whay mental state he's in

is it with pure malice that he destroys our sound?

or is he just fat round and bouncing on the ground?