| There’s a pox upon Blackheath
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| And it isn’t far beneath
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| Where three piggies choose to lie
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| Fly-blown piggies choose to cry
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| Every grabbin' mother needs
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| To see how those piggies feed
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| Their heads buried in the trough
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| 40% was never enough
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| Piggie, Piggie, pay me
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| Schweinhund Piggie, pay me
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| Fly-blown Piggie, pay me
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| Or you will have no sty
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| Build their houses, pay taxes too
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| Petit bourgeois through and through
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| I do want to and I will if I have to
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| Ruin more than two calls could ever do
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| Not sure whether to laugh or cry?
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| I’ll make your mind up: weep
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| Not sure whether to live or die?
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| I’ll prepare your slaughter, sheep
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| Piggie, Piggie, pay me
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| Schweinhund Piggie, pay me
|
| Fly-blown Piggie, pay me
|
| Or you will have no sty
|
| Every grabbin' mother needs
|
| To see how three piggies feed
|
| Their heads buried in the trough
|
| 50% was never enough
|
| There’s a pox upon Blackheath
|
| And it isn’t far beneath
|
| Where three piggies choose to lie
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| Fly-blown piggies choose to die
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| I’ll pick up my burden
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| Ritually protect my heart
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| I’ll pick up my burden
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| Let the hating start
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| Life’s too short to live defiled
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| Life is precious so I’ll live life proud
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| I’m blessed and guided through eternity
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| I’ll confront my burden and set me free |