| Between the dead ring ash of extreme defense
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| The lonely groups of company boys
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| Snapping pictures of scrawny limbs and toothy grins
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| These are children riding naked on their tourist pals
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| While the hollows that pass for eyes swell from withdrawal
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| And he lies on a mattress in a rat infested room
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| Talking 'bout his family and the cold back home
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| Between the dull cold eyes and the mind unstable
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| Noone over here reads the papers pal
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| 'Tween the dull cold eyes and the mind unstable
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| He’s a clean trick and he’s shopping for girls
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| A small black someone jumps over the crazy white guard
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| Cranking up the volume of a Michael Jackson song
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| Between the dull cold eyes and the mind unstable
|
| Noone over here reads the papers pal
|
| 'Tween the dull cold eyes and the mind unstable
|
| He’s a clean trick and he’s shopping for girls
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| Where the frangipani scents the air
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| She mouths a word that breaks his stare
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| He grunts his reply in a garrulous croak
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| «That's a mighty big word for a nine year old»
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| Between the dull cold eyes and the mind unstable
|
| Noone over here reads the papers pal
|
| 'Tween the dull cold eyes and the mind unstable
|
| He’s a squeaky clean trick and he’s shopping for girls
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| Shopping for girls, shopping for girls
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| You gaze down into her eyes for a million miles
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| You wanna give her a name and a clean rag doll |