Lyrics

And so we pour outta doors Think-alikes, so perfectly cloned Is it me who wonders or he? Which am i - this one or the one behind? Sing happy birth to me - wish we won't turn against you What a treat to their eyes: look-alikes and ones of a kind And if i am, how was i done? Perfect - or end of variety? What a feast for their pride: feel-alikes, my sisters and i And so we pour outta gates Perfect lack of variety!