It's crazy how long we've had this tube I've said to myself "when it's finished, I'll move" We often go through three, four a year But this tube is prolonging our time, my dear Each brush of this paste is how I cope A twice daily ritual, this tube is my trope I predict enough squeezes to last us through March And after one last squeeze We'll inevitably depart
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When I moved back home The tube here was new I think about you twice a day; I'll always love you