Once I had a friend called Oliver Twisted, Who used to think he was a brand and gifted, Stupendisly handsome, Beautifully smart, He had no heart.
On his own he was all alone, He wanted more than he ever got.
Once I had a friend called Oliver Twisted, Who took life so slow that he occasionally missed it, Permanently senseless, never on his brain, he had no brain.
Once I had a friend called Oliver Twisted, Who lived on the edge or so he insisted, Inteligently careless, hated rock and roll, he had no soul.
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