| The english love for China tea
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| Brought deficit to the economy
|
| What could we sell back?
|
| Send in the army to deal some smack
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| Drugs and guns and slavery
|
| Live together in perfect harmony
|
| Where the poppy grew
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| The soil is dead
|
| The East India Company scum
|
| Flooding China with opium
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| The soil all washed away
|
| Flooding Bangladesh today
|
| Here comes McDrug
|
| Drugs have long been the currency
|
| Of the Central Intelligence Agency
|
| A long dull story of corruption
|
| Now a clown steps over the Berlin Wall
|
| With a burning cross and pills to go
|
| His Perestroika dependency will
|
| Sit in your gut like a golf ball
|
| Noiseless rocks as clear as ice
|
| Nursed at home with loving pride
|
| Crystal goblets of sherbet
|
| Heaped up, flaked up, rosewater snow
|
| Needles washed up from the sea
|
| On a beach in Californ-i-ay
|
| Help me get me through the day
|
| Here comes McDrug
|
| Needle searches for a new enemy
|
| Locks onto targets in the big city
|
| That was built on the profits
|
| From the opium trade
|
| Here comes McDrug
|
| The duffer rests in a Fenland graveyard
|
| On his way to Alderman Roberts
|
| He’s got the tinctures in his bag
|
| To take away our daily hurts |