I am a rare fruit. I am miserable, and I do not want your company.
I aspire to be the 50 foot woman, and topple your city.
The city you made in your desk, the one with numbers.
It does not matter if you are my best friend, or worst enemy, if you anger me,
You will pay for it.
It will nothing, but a good time, long and leisurely
But I won't serve you.
I won't even take your order.
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