| I was arrested for disturbing the peace
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| But, hey, I was disturbing the war
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| I was waving a small white handkerchief
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| Singing «please don’t fight no more»
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| And I thought there’d be an army each side
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| But there were just two guys wearing very bad ties
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| So I shouted until my throat went hoarse
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| And they cut out my voicebox of course
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| I was taken to court in a city of gold
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| Where silence is a sure sign of guilt
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| And you can’t speak out in your own defense
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| Or be heard over worlds being built
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| And the trial was a farce as befitted a place
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| Where comedy and tragedy share the same face
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| The judge read the verdict, a curtain was raised
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| An audience roared out its praise
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| And I said
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| «Where's the truth around here today?
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| Where do fact and fiction separate?
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| Who’s the bug guy that we have to pay
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| To find the truth around here today?»
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| It all made the news but the story was wrong
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| And the photo wasn’t even of me
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| And the great god I love, he intoned from above
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| You shouldn’t sniff at free publicity
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| But it wasn’t the voice I’d expected to hear
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| It was thin and unclear like Richard Gere
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| And somebody said «God's had a bad fall
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| That’s his manager taking his calls»
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| And I said
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| «Where's the truth around here today?
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| Where do fact and fiction go their separate ways?
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| I thought we were much too clever to pray
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| But where’s the truth to find the truth?»
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| I was put in a cell for the whole afterlife
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| But my mind was just as free as can be
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| Somebody said, «just your body’s enchained»
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| And you can guess how that encouraged me
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| So I wandered and roamed for the rest of my days
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| I was clearing my name, I was apportioning days
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| And then I woke up, it was all a dream, all was well
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| But when I woke up, I woke up in my cell
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| And I said
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| «Where's the truth around here today?
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| Where do fact and fiction separate
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| No-one wants to be the one to say
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| Where’s the truth around here today?»
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| I was arrested for disturbing the peace… |