| From bad news and advertising banished
|
| I ran on, third program
|
| Where it is, by some miracle
|
| The famous burlesque flowed
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| All those gags, and faces the same
|
| A picture book that is listed sadly
|
| Like a notebook found at the bottom of the chest
|
| The smile freezes in time
|
| Where are Laurel and Hardy now?
|
| And this angry cricket and his white puppy?
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| Oh, they're all dead, taken away
|
| Ivy covered the verse a long time ago
|
| From evil and worries, they are solved
|
| But wonderful madness like a halo still roams around them
|
| It was a vintage, a photo of her remained
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| Year unknown gentlemen
|
| But mostly, those barrels have been drunk ever since
|
| Dad with a tweed cap, famous
|
| He takes the road off his back
|
| Grandpa drops hay in front of the crow
|
| In the brown shade of peaches
|
| I only know my mother by her blouse
|
| And who can hear mobs and giggles across the road
|
| But all are dead and blessed
|
| Ivy covered the verse a long time ago
|
| They have been saved from evil times
|
| And a trace of honesty and kindness, like a halo still roaming around them
|
| In the school yearbook, important people
|
| Smakera and bug
|
| But only one motto: Hold on, Planet
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| Dreamers, geniuses, champions
|
| Sacrificed as pawns
|
| The flags fell, at forty-five
|
| Whenever I meet them, they complain
|
| I whisper like conspirators
|
| But a drunken breath is the wind
|
| What a dragon does not rise
|
| Well, they're already dead, and they're walking
|
| I was not born to wait for the end… No.
|
| My life is not, for sale
|
| And when you knit, your halo
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| There is no better place for that than darkness |