「...!」
「...!」
I sat in our lounge for many years.
My father said he was something to behold.
A moving and inanimate,
he was just something to look at.
Or so I was told.
He sat there didn't move, big and shiny.
My mom gusted him every day.
A little bum on his back,
covered in tic.
Little time did it take to remove.
His name is Jamie.
His name is Jamie.
His name is Jamie.
And he's a good machine.
He's always kind.
He doesn't steal.
He's the one.
Is he for you?
He laughs.
He smiles.
But always speaks his mind.
Never late.
No hate.
He communicates.
If only everybody was this good.
His name is Jamie.
And he's a good machine.
His name is Jamie.
His name is Jamie.
His name is Jamie.
And he's a good machine.
His name is Jamie.
His name is Jamie.
And his name is Jamie.
And he's a good machine.
His name is Jamie.
His name is Jamie.
His name is Jamie.
His name is Jamie.
Over time he became one of us.
I even think he goes my mom.
I change.
He raves.
He stays out late.
He drinks too much.
He has *** with sluts.
Now I think my dad is ready to unplug.
His name is Jamie and he's a good machine.
A
policeman came around and pulled the plug.