| Many a truest word
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| Has been spoken by the Jester
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| Standing against the tide
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| Is the noblest of gestures
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| It’s the little pearls of wisdom
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| That tumble from the light
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| That makes us laugh until we cry
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| Because we know that they are right
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| Within the strangest people
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| Truth can find the strangest home
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| So meet me in the village
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| Where all we idiots go
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| Bring on the Clowns
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| The Jokers and Buffoons
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| I’ve had the Time of my Life
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| And the Life of my Times
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| In the Company of Fools
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| I’m wading through the quicksand
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| In the gardens of the gentry
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| Blooming vacuity
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| Leaves mind and pockets empty
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| In the Social Order
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| I accept the bottom rung
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| Until the wine is pouring
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| And the Lord commands a song
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| Meet me at the staff door
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| When the posers all go home
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| We’ll gather with the other Fools
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| And put on a proper show
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| So here’s to the Poorest Poet
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| Who always pens the truth
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| Players Writers and Gypsies
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| The Minstrels and their tunes
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| I’d rather live an honest lifetime
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| With those with nothing to lose
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| Than waste a night
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| Knee deep in shite
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| That’s polished slick
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| To look just right
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| I’d rather live a lifetime in the
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| Company of Fools
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| Within the strangest people
|
| Truth can find the strangest home
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| So meet me in the village
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| Where all we idiots go |