| Talk about the last war, the past war, the one before
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| I wanna salute the troops and what is more
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| I’d like to toast a drink to the stink of the semaphore
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| I wanna parade on the graves of the gone before
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| We were all together then, officers and gentlemen
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| Prisoners and pressmen, hound dogs and yellow men
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| Three million dead or more, what a score
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| With God on your side you’ll never loose another war
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| But don’t despair, there’s more to come
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| Make your repairs, re-skin your drum
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| And I’ll guarantee World War Three
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| Will be the biggest show you’ve ever seen
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| The Russians are coming, I can feel it in my piss
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| Better get out your gun, set your sights and don’t miss
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| Better break out a bottle, make a toast to the past
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| If it don’t taste like vodka, you’d better make it last
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| But don’t despair, there’s more to come
|
| Make your repairs, re-skin your drum
|
| And I’ll guarantee World War Three
|
| Will be the biggest show you’ve ever seen
|
| But don’t despair, there’s more to come
|
| Make your repairs, re-skin your drum
|
| And I’ll guarantee World War Three
|
| Will be the biggest show you’ve ever seen
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| What’s this I see? |
| There’s still foliage on the tree
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| Someone said hello, it was surely meant for me
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| Hello, I replied, feeling strange inside
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| He took me by the hand and he whispered an aside
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| It’s alright, don’t let it worry your head
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| War is over now but unfortunately you are dead
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| But don’t despair, there’s more to come
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| Come on make your repairs, re-skin your drum
|
| And I’ll guarantee World War Three
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| Will be the biggest show you’ve ever seen |