| Tell me, how does it feel?
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| In the hour of deception and the moment of pretend
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| To be scorned by those rank and those unkind strangers
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| You were fool enough to call your friends
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| Will you say as the curtain descends?
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| «They're not laughing at me now»
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| When the last of the garlands and laurel crowns
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| And fine bouquets have all been swept away
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| You were lost in the smokescreens of cavalcades
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| And accolades instead of traitor’s pay
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| Where will you find th courage to say?
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| «They're not laughing at me now»
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| You could shake my hand
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| If I could unfold my fist
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| If I were a gentleman
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| If I were a Christian
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| But I wouldn’t risk it
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| Why would you?
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| You know my name now
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| And it’s «Mister» to you
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| Now we’re back at the start, no forgiveness in your heart
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| You turned your coat and asked me to turn my cheek
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| And it’s all in a language
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| That I can understand but never bring myself to speak
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| I’ll leave it to you, if you dare
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| It’s a peal too appalling to bear
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| I wonder if you’re here or you’re there
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| They’re not laughing at me now
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| They’re not laughing at me now
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| They’re not laughing at me now |