| The end of the world, it’s not the end of the world
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| But if it’s the end of the world I won’t be defending this world
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| A haggard old moll who calls closing time
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| To customers jumping the queue
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| Rolling her eyes, her lips turning blue
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| It eats me away, how we let our success slip away
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| We ended up losers with little computers
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| As the bull bears down
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| We mangled it all, mismanaged by clowns
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| Slipped on the turf, we splat in the mud, fumbled the ball
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| We ruined it all
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| But may I just say, it shouldn’t end any old way
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| Not a bang or a whimper, a whizz or a banker
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| Just a hot little cough to kiss us all off in this horrible way
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| Drowning in pus, stuck in a tent
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| Like your worst holiday
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| Well is this how it ends?
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| But thanks everyone, all you policemen who move me along
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| You politicians who get it all wrong
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| The madmen and women who hurt me into song
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| A rancid old moll that filled me with smoke
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| Slapping your ass and filling your throat
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| On the bed of your gonzo delirium
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| Tossing your way into porno oblivion
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| Goodbye everyone, it’s a scary old world
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| A carelessly sweary old world
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| Boozing and floozing and losing your touch
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| Flirting and hurting and lining your crotch
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| But thanks for the ride, thanks for the ride
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| And I am alone |