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connecticut's for fucking - jesus h christ & the 4 hornsmen of the apocalypse lyrics

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we live in the dullest state

package stores all close at eight

malls are full of optometrists

and restaurants we hate

swimming across lake qu-ssapaug

stealing makeup, catching frogs

cutting our feet on broken bottles

as we wade in the shepaug

it’s true for horses, cows and dogs…

connecticut’s for f-cking

that’s all there is to do

i love to listen to cl-ssic rock

and have s-x with you

doing hole shots at the mall

writing ozzy on a wall

watch the corn get tall

there’s nothing else to do at all

goin’ where we always go

doin’ what we always do

waitin’ to turn into the people

we are bound to turn into

what else do other people do?

connecticut’s for f-cking

it’s the nutmeg state

if we can’t afford to buy antiques

then we just copulate

connecticut’s for f-cking

and m-ssachusetts too

i want to climb up the sleepy giant

and have s-x with you

up in fairfield

in old lyme

we’re just f-cking all the time

out in derby

down in kent

we’re all busy getting bent

in the const-tution state

connecticut’s for f-cking

while we’re waiting to

turn into the people

everyone here turns into

connecticut’s for f-cking

there’s nothing else to do

i wanna listen to cl-ssic rock and have s-x with you

we all love to f-ck in connecticut

we’re all getting f-cked in connecticut

let’s f-ck!

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