| Pearly-white snow
|
| And sapphire skies
|
| To see the stars at night
|
| across the oceans
|
| Bridges at the edge of space
|
| To wave to all our friends
|
| And a peacetime boom
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| That never ends
|
| Poets and prophets
|
| Came and went
|
| Returned to the earth
|
| From where they were sent
|
| Their lives were as worthless
|
| As dwindling stars
|
| Now nobody knows where their graves are
|
| Down south in the deserts
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| and forestry
|
| The saplings are free
|
| From the blood-red jackboot
|
| Of history
|
| As they cross the tundra
|
| They’ll laugh to each other
|
| And say it’s the only way
|
| To be
|
| Landlady: Thank you lads!
|
| Ian: Well, we seem to have a bit of a problem here. |
| We have a landlady that
|
| doesn’t like this music
|
| Landlady: No I don’t
|
| Ian: Well, sir, there’s nothing we can do about it. |
| So, um, that means you
|
| should, like, uh, apologize. |
| She’s really embarrassing, but, I’m sorry, but,
|
| some people don’t have the ability for the insight-
|
| Man: There’s no need to be like that, boy-
|
| Ian: Well, I’m not being rude, am I?
|
| Man:
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| Landlady: I’m sorry, lads, thank you…
|
| Man: Stop being like that
|
| Ian: I’m not being like anything, am I? |
| Am I being rude? |
| I’m not, am I?
|
| So, it’s fine
|
| Ian: Well, put it this, way, right, if we had been We’re gonna do it anyway |