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2.47sWhere fiery demons will punch me in the back,
2.27swhere my soul will be chopped into confetti...
2.3sand strewn upon a parade of murderers and single mothers,
3.34swhere my tongue will be torn out by ravenous birds.
1.63s
0.37sBart did it!
2.14sThat Bart right there!
0.67sMilhouse!
2.1sMilhouse, you did the right thing.
1.83sBart, come with me for punishment.
1.83sYou too, snitchy.
2.84sI want you to clean every one of these organ pipes...
3.67sthat you have befouled with your popular music.
1.5s
2.47s
2.97s
2.67sYou shank! How could you tell on me?
3.34sWell, I didn't want hungry birds pecking my soul forever.
3.4sSoul? Come on, Milhouse. There's no such thing as a soul.
2.84sIt's just something they made up to scare kids,
1.97slike the boogeyman, or Michael jackson.
2.23sBut every religion says there's a soul, Bart.
2.84sWhy would they lie? What would they have to gain?
0.73s
1s
2sI don't hear scrubbing!