My head is full of cotton.
My throat is full of it too.
Because of this cotton existence,
I can't put on my running shoes.
Can't put on my left one.
Nor can I lace my right.
Can't go running in England's gloom.
Or the cold of night.
I guess I could be let down.
I'm wearing a sweatshirt that is blue.
My head is full of cotton.
Can't put on my running shoes.
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