| You, you point your finger
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| Stare, you feel no shame
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| Raise your hand in anger
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| Swear that I’m insane
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| You, you smell my freedom
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| Makes you squirm because I smile
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| How you hate my long hair
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| Call my music vile
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| You call me a junkie
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| Call me filth and scum
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| Keep me from your daughter
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| But my time will surely come
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| You, you joined the army
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| Fought a bloody war
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| Came home with a trophy
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| Turned into a bore
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| You, you think you’re civilised
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| With your connections you can’t fail
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| But you treat your wife and family
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| Like you bought them in a sale
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| You, you’re blind to beauty
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| Only power can quench your thirst
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| You scream to bring back birching
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| Keep a list who should be first
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| You, you slowly fester
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| Gripped by your disease
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| Despise your next door neighbour
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| Strange he feels like me
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| Me I’ve felt your anger
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| Me I’ve felt your scorn
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| Me I don’t know nothing
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| Me I’ve just been born
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| Me I m slowly learning
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| To bide my time and wait
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| Me I’ve grown accustomed
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| To the burden of your hate
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| But remember when you point and stare
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| And wave your arms up in the air
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| When you bastards die
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| We’ll still be here then we’ll take over |