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This is the Central Scrutinizer
Joe has just worked himself into an imaginary frenzy
During the fade-out of his imaginary song
He begins to feel depressed now
He knows the end is near, he has realized at last
That imaginary guitar notes and imaginary vocals
Exist only in the imagination of the imaginer
And ultimately, who gives a fuck anyway?
So... so
Excuse me (ha-ha-ha-ha)
So
Who gives a fuck anyway?
So he goes back to his ugly little room
And quietly dreams his last imaginary guitar-solo
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