.När huvet hänger som ett visset pall,
Fyllt med äppelmos.
När allting skitit sej,
Ã
man vill sjunga blues.
Ja då kan det bara bli,
Utskitetäppelmosblues!
När knoppen hänger som ett ruttet skrutt,
Med tillplattad nos.
Ett kart utan fart där hopp.
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