| Really don’t mind if you sit this one out.
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| My words but a whisper your deafness a SHOUT.
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| I may make you feel but I can’t make you think.
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| Your sperm’s in the gutter your love’s in the sink.
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| So you ride yourselves over the fields and
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| you make all your animal deals and
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| your wise men don’t know how it feels to be thick as a brick.
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| And the sand-castle virtues are all swept away
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| in the tidal destruction the moral melee.
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| The elastic retreat rings the close of play
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| as the last wave uncovers the newfangled way.
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| But your new shoes are worn at the heels
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| and your suntan does rapidly peel
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| and your wise men don’t know how it feels
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| to be thick as a brick.
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| And the love that I feel is so far away:
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| I’m a bad dream that I just had today
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| and you shake your head and say it’s a shame.
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| Spin me back down the years and the days of my youth.
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| Draw the lace and black curtains and shut out the whole truth.
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| Spin me down the long ages: let them sing the song.
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| See there! |
| A son is born and we pronounce him fit to fight.
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| There are black-heads on his shoulders, and he pees himself in the night.
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| We’ll make a man of him, put him to trade
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| teach him to play Monopoly and how to sing in the rain. |