who left this door opennnbulb shining and everything moltennnall the flavors nnspill out your ‘frigerator nnnnjunky from the first tastennand the icicles slip down my facennhow could you knownnthat i am an eskimonnnngive me all your ice cream conesnnvoice mails on my telephonenngive me all your ice cream conesnnletters, vandalism tonesnngive me all your ice cream conesnnvoice mails on my telephonenngive me all your ice cream conesnnletters, vandalism tonesnnnngive me all your ice cream conesnngive me all your ice creamnncones