Happyman smiles almost every single day, too numb to notice that he`s walking in a haze, he`s pushed himself here and doesn`t know what to do. Choked by the clock and he doesn`t know what to do. I say, you say, you say its work, yeah its work all day. Happyman is mad at the world (green grasses, picket fences, liquid lunches lost his senses)
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