Hugo You know there's a book, Full of half written stories, Full of little White lies. But here is a story, In this messed up book About a boy called Hugo His story is sacred Laced with soul, A scarred little boy, Stuck in reverse, He's shaken and miserable, Tortured to the pulp. Hugo is the little boy Who sold his soul. I guess he's a little bit like us, A short sudden story, Were materialistic's is gold. And we all sell our souls, For a pretty face and all.
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