| I was trained in Arizona,
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| In a secret desert camp
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| Where we did night manoeuvres
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| Without a lighted lamp.
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| I’ve got an old worn Trilby hat
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| That doesn’t keep me dry
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| When the rain falls on my mac
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| Plays havoc with the dye
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| I wear my dark shades every day of the year
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| When I see my reflection it strikes a note of fear.
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| I’ve got a dozen gadgets concealed in my clothes
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| I’ve got some suicide pills that taste like herb of cloves
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| I’ve not got a single friend just my armpit gun
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| And when I go to bed at night it certainly helps me son
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| I’m always getting in tight spots
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| I manage to escape
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| By either jumping off a train
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| Or swimming in a lake
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| Soon I’m in a right state
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| I’m a secret agent there’s nowhere you can hide
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| I’m a secret agent taking you for a ride
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| What’s your name what’s your game
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| Details never stop
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| Work alone on your own
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| Collar up, hat pulled down
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| On the beach, with a peach
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| Sometimes good, sometimes bad
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| Drinking coffee, feeling sad.
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| There’s one thing that I want to be involved with
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| That’s Truth and Justice and I sincerely mean that.
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| And if everybody was involved in Truth and Justice
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| There would be no need for secret agents.
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| That’s what happens when you get in tight spots.
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| He’s in a tight spot
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| I’ve yet to crack-up
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| Ain’t got no backup
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| What’s your name
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| What’s your game
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| A bit strung out
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| Ain’t got no backup
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| I’m beginning to crack-up
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| Think I’ll go bankrupt
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| It’s all confusion
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| Disappearing without a trace
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| I’m a secret agent
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| He’s in a tight spot
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| Attention, Attention
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| REPEAT VERSE 1
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| And everybody rushes away to hide
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| Certainly take you for a ride baby |