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He sold himself as pure virgin wool
But at the drop of a match was revealed
A polyester
Catastrophe!
The whole world now congealing
Within the flames of his rhetoric
We found him crashed
At the outskirts of town
Crumpled against
A large avocado tree
Soft-top piled full
Of the dislodged harvest
Rotting amongst
His messy blond hair
We left him there
Feeling it was the right thing to do
To rot like the fruit that he
Had shaken down from the tree
So carelessly.
Stills and transcript from Pure Virgin Wool
(2020-21)
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