| F E A R is everywhere here
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| Under the patio
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| Under the hard-earned bought and paid for home
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| Cushions, scented candles and the lawn
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| Mowing to the beat and the rumble of the coming storm
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| We all know about the wars that are raging
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| All the millions who just cannot see
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| There’s so much more that binds us than divides us
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| But our F E A R denies it
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| While the papers stir it
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| The colours of the flag we wave
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| Were and will become blood red again
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| And the madmen all say they hear voices
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| God tells them what to do
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| The wars are all about money
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| They always were
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| And the money’s dressed up in religion
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| And when it’s not showing off, the money’s hiding
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| Something is cooking inside me…
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| It ain’t ready, but already…
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| I’m becoming harder to live with
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| Becoming harder to live with
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| You say I’m becoming harder to live with
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| I’m becoming harder to live with
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| But you can’t see into my head
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| You can’t see into my head
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| You can’t see into my head
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| No, you can’t see into my head
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| And the roads are full of weapons
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| That slide by in the night
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| Tanks all covered in yellow mud
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| Pass you on the motorway
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| As you drive by with the kids and the buckets and spades
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| Happy Days |