... when you park out the front of my house and ring me in the middle of the night for a hour long conversation because your best friend is getting 'lucky' on a golf course.
Little Turton's on the hillside, little Turton's made of ticky-tacky, little Turton's, little Turton's, little Turton's all the same. And all the Turton's in the houses all go to the university. There are drunk ones, and high ones, and one's that sleep in too late.. And they all look just the same.. Little Turton's all the same.
I'm off to find a Turton, a Turton.
And then he rings you asking for more time, so you punish him by going to look for him on said golf course; to flash spotlights on them and give me a running commentary of what you see. But Turton is the master of disguise.
Am I not Turtony enough for the Turton Club?
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