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Junk
Man
When the Junk Man comes, he'll buy you a television,
A diesel-burning engine and some cream of wheat
He'll get you a real job. No more fun in the garden.
He'll package your sex, and then he'll package your meat.
Pick a fucking apple. Don't you plant no corn
It's all wrapped in plastic when the Junk Man comes
They said don't play with fire, but we couldn't be warned
It always seems so drastic when the Junk Man comes
When the Junk Man comes
When the Junk Man comes, the wheels start grinding.
And soon we'll be finding that the world don't turn.
He's mixing blood and oil with human emotion
His foul-smelling lotion is gonna make us burn.
The flowers and the trees are all choking with disease.
Can't you hear your Mama crying when the Junk Man comes?
Stop and ask him Why?, and he'll say it's destiny
It's the future that we're frying when the Junk Man comes.
When the Junk Man comes . . . Junk, Junk, Junk.
I got to leave this place and go live on an island,
Or maybe go to Thailand for some Bangcock bang.
But, then the Junk Man comes, I know that he'll find me,
And then he'll try to blind me with his whorish games.
His complicated lies make the truth sound corny,
But life is so bubonic when the Junk Man comes,
Mixing sex and death always gets me so horny.
It's really quite erotic when the Junk Man comes,
When the Junk Man comes,
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