| He is the People’s poet and all the people know it
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| They’ve read his published stories in public
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| Lavatories
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| In town and country locals he’s Mr. Antisocial
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| His violence does the talking those boots weren’t
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| Made for walking
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| He’s a cold blooded vulture he won’t respect your
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| Culture
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| He’s nothing like your good self he’s come to burn
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| Your bookshelf
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| He’ll gobble up your children destroy what
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| You’ve been building
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| And when you’re left to suffer he’ll vivisect
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| Your mother
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| He is the Lord and master of every war and
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| Disaster
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| Every disease and famine, a piece of cunning
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| Planning
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| Be was in Vietnam he is the Klu Klutz Klan
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| He was the child catcher he gave us Margaret
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| Thatcher
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| One day the Devil was in high good humour, for
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| He had created a mirror which made everything
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| Good and beautiful reflected in it shrink to
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| Almost nothing, and everything bad and ugly
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| Stand out more clearly than ever
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| All the little imps who went to the Devil’s
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| School ran around with the mirror, until there
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| Was nowhere and no one that had not been
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| Distorted in it. |
| The Devil was much amused, and
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| The mirror itself grinned wickedly
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| Then the little imps decided to fly up to heaven
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| To make fun of God and his angels. |
| The higher
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| They carried the mirror, the more it grinned
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| Until it was shaking so hard with laughter that
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| It slipped out of their hands and fell to earth
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| Where it broke into millions of pieces
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| And then it caused even more trouble than
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| Before, because all the tiny splinters
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| Scarcely the size of a grain of sand, went
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| Flying around the world, and whenever a
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| Splinter flew into anyone’s eye, it had the
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| Same power as the whole mirror, and made people
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| See everything distorted
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| Sometimes a splinter of glass even entered
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| Someone’s heart, which was worst of all, for
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| Then that person’s heart was turned to ice
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| And by his royal appointment there'11 be no
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| More enjoyment
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| There will be no more benders no service will be
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| Rendered
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| The shops will not be open until he sees you
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| Broken
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| You’ve got to give him credit the poor man’s
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| Norman Tebbitt
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| Cruelty without beauty, beyond the call of duty
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| And beyond my understanding I find it so
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| Demanding
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| I wish I could forget it, and be more apathetic
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| It’s just it bothers me so how anyone could be so
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| EVIL |