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    When the waitress walked by - She must've caught his eye
    And at that moment he was mine
    A little slight of hand and I had poisoned his bowl of neopolitan
    What else can I say Man - Enjoy your ice cream

    Murder is such an ugly word - Then use another if you so prefer
    Me - I like to call it art and art is it's own reward
    Just ask Burt Ward - Years of living in the shadow of The Bat
    But we'll come back to that
    Right now let's roll this little memo out to the big boss
    For the next time you think I'm going soft
    Send some punk to try knock me off
    Here's a reminder - You fucking hind-grinder - With a cherry on top

    That I never lost a step
    Message to Marcel

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    In my parapsychology - The ghosts they only visit me
    Mother - Its no bother
    There's a demon on this shoulder and an angel upon the other
    The tie always goes to the runner - Ten quatlooms on the newcomer

    They always seem to remember that the art is its own reward
    Just ask Burt Ward
    Tell me he never fucking felt like capping anybody
    Half a lifetime spent living in the shadow of The Bat
    Like that has got to take its toll on you - Take control of you
    Until one day all you have left to show
    Is the only thing for sure that you have ever known
    The art of an obedient carefully connected rogue

    I never lost a step
    Message to Marcel
    And I never rubbed the bat
    Message to Marcel

    En garde

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