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The Genetic Repo Man
repo operaOut from the night, from the mist, steps a figure.
No one really knows his name for sure.
He stands at six-foot-six, head and shoulders.
Pray he never comes knocking at your door!
Say that you once bought a heart, or new corneas,
But somehow never managed to square away your debt.
He won't bother to write or to phone you. HE'LL JUST RIP THE STILL-BEATING HEART FROM YOUR CHEST!!!

It's a thankless job, but hey, somebody's got to do it. Keen Incisions? He delivers! Unscathed organs? He delivers! Genetic repossessions? He delivers!
 
So pay your debts, or this night surgeon will paint yer ass like Rembrandt! But who's the man behind this mask?
 
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