| Us, and them
|
| And after all we’re only ordinary men
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| Me, and you
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| God only knows it’s noz what we would choose to do
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| Forward he cried from the rear
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| And the front rank died
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| And the general sat and the lines on the map
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| Moved from side to side
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| Black and blue
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| And who knows which is which and who is who
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| Up and down
|
| But in the end it’s only round and round
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| Haven’t you heard it’s a battle of words
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| The poster bearer cried
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| Listen son, said the man with the gun
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| There’s room for you inside
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| «I mean, they’re not gunna kill ya, so if you give 'em a quick short
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| Sharp, shock, they won’t do it again. |
| Dig it? |
| I mean he get off
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| Lightly, 'cos I would’ve given him a thrashing — I only hit him once!
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| It was only a difference of opinion, but really… I mean good manners
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| Don’t cost nothing do they, eh?»
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| Down and out
|
| It can’t be helped but there’s a lot of it about
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| With, without
|
| And who’ll deny it’s what the fighting’s all about?
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| Out of the way, it’s a busy day
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| I’ve got things on my mind
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| For the want of the price of tea and a slice
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| The old man died |