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Saturday, March 29, 2008


TIME TO DANCE (misheard lyrics)
Hi. I made a misheard lyrics version of Time to Dance, by Panic. Now, read it or I'll shoot you. Thanks.

Welshie shot beet things on the ballroom floor
Just for Tea's attention.
Cuss that!
This ridicules Lee Todd.
Welshie, you're a faggot.

Here, a-sitting:
Trashin' magazines, limes, and walls, now.
The walls lie, the bull, it's soul!

Have a composer.
Where is Herb's oscar?
Oh, no nose!
You're fooling the Tigger,
Pulling the Tigger!
All wrong.

Halves, some Kosher?
Where is Europe, stir?
Oh, know nose!
You're up-ruling the trigger,
Ruling the Tigger all wrong!

Gimme A V, Gimme Alice, Gimmy,
You're a ten shin!
Gimley a Ve, Gimme ma list, baby,
Get me a brake!

When, eyes?
Hey, shotgon, you play wedding!
Shotgun, ready? Shotgun, ready?
Shotgun's ready!

She did knit.
Use this role.
Bush'll play it and, mace, it's sincere, soul.
You cry? You cry.
Bsuifhishf

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