| They saw us coming
|
| From miles away
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| Jubilant train
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| Wearing a pink boa and feathers like an exotic bird
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| Double headed
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| Breathing smoke
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| Looking for a line to quote
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| Waiting to jump the rope
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| To change the vote
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| To witness hope
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| In the newest thing
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| Called freedom
|
| But they said no way
|
| And they wore the same coats
|
| Khaki brown and faded
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| Typed at the same machines
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| And tried to box up all the dreams
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| In neat little packages
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| Like widgets for the factory
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| All the while watching big brother watching
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| Big brother watching
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| Big brother watching…
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| 'but we are crashing gates
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| And we are passing over the gate keepers"
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| We are the new
|
| And we are marching like a jubilant train
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| Through your towns
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| Past your landscapes of lame ducks
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| Past the lines of indifference
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| Past the stormtroopers of compromise
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| The deputies of damage control
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| The officers of fear
|
| As they hand out their tickets to the deaf and the dumb and the younger ones
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| To the very old, the influential, the disturbed, the zealots, the sheltered,
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| the innocent
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| We pass through the gates
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| Like the dawning of a new age
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| Like the turning of a new page
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| Like the birth of a new son
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| Like freedom
|
| On a roll
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| Wearing nothing but a smile on our faces
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| And our hands up in the air |