| Grab a barrel, a body odour
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| And a mouthful of clean teeth
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| Pluck a couple of bony shoulders
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| Wipe them clean
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| Cook 'em on a hot heat
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| I’ll never grow old and I’ll never become
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| The man that I hoped I’d be when I was young
|
| I’ll never be famous, I’ll never be loved
|
| 'Cause soon we’ll all be dust
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| Never be rich but I’ll never run out
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| I’ll never get up and I’ll never get down
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| Never be new but I’ll never be rust
|
| Soon we’ll all be dust
|
| And if you laughed at something tender
|
| You can try and turn your cheek
|
| But in the end we’ll all be powder anyway, 'cause
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| We’re cooking on a hot heat, oh
|
| I’ll never grow old and I’ll never become
|
| The man that I hoped I’d be when I was young
|
| I’ll never be famous, I’ll never be loved
|
| 'Cause soon we’ll all be dust
|
| Never be rich but I’ll never run out
|
| I’ll never get up and I’ll never get down
|
| Never be new but I’ll never be rust
|
| Soon we’ll all be dust
|
| Soon we’ll all be dust, oh
|
| Soon we’ll all be dust
|
| Soon we’ll all be dust, here we go
|
| Cooking up a hurricane
|
| So hurry, get the table laid
|
| I hope you like it homemade
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| You ready for your strangled eggs
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| You ready for your skewered heads
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| I hope you like it hot
|
| This dinner’s gonna need a special grace
|
| Soon we’ll all be dust
|
| Soon we’ll all be dust, oh
|
| Soon we’ll all be dust
|
| Soon we’ll all be dust, here we go
|
| Grace
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| Grace, Amen
|
| Grace
|
| Grace, Amen |