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Howard

The spirits of her abortion had manifested

The spirits of all her abortions manifested

Themselves into the furniture in the roomThere would be a chair waiting, smiling

The pictures on the wall watched her in disbelief

She'd go carry the garbage out to the sidewalk

And come back in and sit with all her childrenInanimate, petrified forever a little boy named Howard

Everybody knows one of those guys in school

Who kills everything he finds, every little cat

Every mouse, every dog, likes to burn his sister with cigarettesDiabolical schemes, everything has been conspired, the doors wired

That's 'cause those south Americans tied him up in a chair

He was doing that dope deal, he never got over that

You're just made of words, you're just made of sounds

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