(Snakeoil) Bump ‘n’ grind burlesque house ragtime music that makes it clear what the pianist needed his hands free for when he bought that player piano. Wait, I should have just based that joke around the word “pianist.” Regardless of my failings, all you ragtime ephemeralists out there shouldn’t let the composers pop punk past or the album’s porn picture promotional aspects make you start hatin’ on this. You should start hatin’ on yourself for getting so turned on by great gimmick-core rags!
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