| Hello, country fans
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| Thank you for listening through to the end of this tape
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| We gonna reward your patiences with our version of the K-K-K-KK classic
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| «Even my shites is whites whites whites,»
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| Michael Jackson looks white under a bright light
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| But when the sun goes down
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| He returns to his natural colour
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| That’s how come he’s able to
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| Stalk his prey at night
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| Even my shites is whites, whites whites
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| In case there’s anyone out there who doesn’t like the way I sing or the jokes I
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| tell
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| Please! |
| Don’t tire me down with the same type needles
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| To explain why I sing the way I do, why you’re so unfair to rebuke and chastise
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| me
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| I will tell you a story which actually happened
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| Not very long ago, in a city not very far away
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| It was late, the night clubs was closed, I was drinking
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| She was pregnant and I had to dig my heels into her stomach to make sure she
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| miscarried
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| Anyway! |
| My mind wondered and I saw myself in a garden
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| Surrounded heat of two types
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| One humid and suffocating, the other one fiery, burning my hair and fingernails
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| That’s right children it was the Garden of Eden
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| Where Adam and Eve invented humanity with the twin fires of love and hate
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| I had to escape
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| Suddenly in the distance I saw a concrete tower, emitting a cool blue light
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| And I could hear men singing
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| I dragged myself towards peaceful sound with the last of my strength
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| I got into the elevator and went up to the top floor
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| Take it down still a little bit tiny bit more
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| I could hear the men singing
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| White Feather Club, White Feather Club, White Feather, Feather, Feather Club
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| The door opened, «come in friend!»
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| We’re having a meeting
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| Take the minutes
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| White
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| Feather
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| Club |