| We corrupted Swiss chocolate
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| We laced it with strychnine
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| And said we’d only stop it
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| For a cool six million
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| We corrupted Swiss chocolate
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| And moved to the Philippines
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| We’ve come to know exactly
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| What being fabulously wealthy means
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| (It's beautiful)
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| And the times I feel guilty
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| For the children who died
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| I press my ear to Jenny’s belly
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| And hear our child inside
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| A boy or a girl?
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| A victor or victim?
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| New life made possible by strychnine
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| Born into a world of cyanide
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| They call us the poisoners
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| But we knew
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| Being decent and humane
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| Folk without a brain
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| Sneezing in the rain
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| Would never do
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| We’d rather be poisoners
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| Than prisoners like you
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| They call us the poisoners
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| We got rich quick
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| But the world got sick
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| Before we slipped the strychnine in the bar
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| We’d rather be poisoners than losers
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| Like you are
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| We moved to Manila
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| We golf on the golf green
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| With all the other killers
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| Who know exactly what it’s like to win
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| (It's wonderful) |