| Cannons roared in the valley they thundered
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| While the guns lit up the night
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| Then it rained and both sides wondered
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| Who is wrong and who is right
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| On the wire like a ragged old scarecrow
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| Bloody hands and broken back
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| When they fire see him pirouette solo
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| Jump in time to the rat a tat
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| What a night though it’s one of seven
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| What a night for the dancing dead
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| What a night to be called to heaven
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| What a picture to fill your head
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| By the wall in a silouette standing
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| Through a flash of sudden light
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| Cigarette from his mouth just hanging
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| Paper square to his heart pinned tight
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| Gather round reluctant marksmen
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| One of them to take his life
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| With a smile he gives them pardon
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| Leaves the dark and takes the light
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| CHORUS
|
| They dispatch their precious cargo
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| Knock him back right off his feet
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| And they pray may no one follow
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| Better still to face the beast
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| When the field has become a garden
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| And the wall has stood the test
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| Children play and the dogs run barking
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| Who would think or who would guess
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| CHORUS |