Clone: Down right just snatching mate.
Clone: You ever let me wear your shoes, I show you how to dance real.
Imposter: Just the same, thanks, not interested in flashin' a flaw.
Clone: Not a flaw if you know you're bad.
Imposter: Strange advice, let's get back inside, I burn bad.
Clone: You're pink.
Imposter: I already knew that. I can feel it.
Clone: I never burn.
Imposter: You coming in or not?
Clone: I think I'll take off a bit down the street, maybe I'll swing back in awhile for supper.
Imposter: Knock, this door will be locked.
Clone: I hear ya mate.
Clone: No doorbell?
Imposter: No doorbell, not in this city.
Clone: Right mate, a ding ding ring ring will bust a train of thought.
Imposter: I like that you understand, means your head is in the game.
Clone: The true bread is not from the ground.