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Oaklie

Tuesday, 17 January 2012

Fresh Queen of Cathays

On the fields of Somerset, born and raised
In my tractor is where I spent most of my days
Ploughin' and preparin' my harvest was a lark
And doing some cow-tipping after it turned dark.

When a couple of guys, they might've been thiefs
Started makin' crop circles in amongst my sheafs
I ruined one barn dance and folk started tellin' tales
I said I'm going to study lit in a city in Wales

I whistled for my horse and when it came close
I saw someone had kindly shaved "M4" on its arse
If anything I could say that this might've been a myth
But I though "nah forget it, oh boyo! To the 'Diff!"

**Doodoo doo DOODOO doo dooo! Doodoo doo DOODOO doo doo!**

We. Reared. UP to student halls, where I would be living
I implored of lovely Dobbin "yo horse, stop shitting"
I looked at my bedroom in a wonder and haze,
I'm finally here. I'm the Queen of Cathays.

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