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ITCH I've got an itch I cannot scratch It drives me to distraction And if I do not reach the source I'll have

to take some action It comes from my old landlord The evil prince of hell Who lost a willing follower When for The Lord I fell. The world is always calling me It whispers words of love Always there, just like a thorn That's caught up in your glove As long as I perfect my gaze Upon The Lord of light Then I will put up with the itch Whenever, day or night.

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