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We're the Mafia catsBugsy, Franco and ToniWe're crazy for pizzaWith hot pepperoni
All you see is outside me: my painted smile,the rosy-posy shell, the fluttery eyes.A butter-won’t-melt-in-my-mouth-type me
Midnight. A knock at the door.Open it? Better had.Three heavy cats, mean and bad.
When I was bornI was a familiar,a black cat, Satan’s favourite form.
In the beginning was the wordand the word is ours:
the names of places,the names of flowers,the name of names,words are ours.