| I am not a dog on a chain, I use my own brain
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| I can turn the conversation off, I’m too clever to be robbed
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| I am not a dog on a chain, thanks all the same
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| I have patience and I have time, both of which are mine
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| I hear a call, I hear a cry
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| I raise my voice, I have no choice
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| I raise my hand, I hammer twice
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| I see no point in being nice
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| I am not a dog on a chain, I use my own brain
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| I do not read newspapers, they are troublemakers
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| Listen out for what’s not shown to you and there you find the truth
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| For in a civilized and careful way they’ll sculpture all your views
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| So open up your nervous mouth and feel the words come streaming out
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| In volume, pitch and rising cries, opening your blinkered eyes
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| For otherwise you’ll never know who you are or all that you can do
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| If you want to, if you want to, if you want to
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| I am not a dog on a chain, you’ve got to be insane
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| One is company and two is a crowd, and crowds are loud
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| Or maybe I’ll be skinned alive by Canada Goose because of my views
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| Because of the truth, because of my fleece, because of my niece
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| Like drinking ink, the words explode, fattening fists, louder than blows
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| The dead are dead, ice cold and hard to where they can’t be overcharged
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| They have no breath, they have no eyes, at least they won’t be going twice |