| This is the Ministry Of Defence
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| Stairs and walls are all that’s left
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| Mortar holes let through the air
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| Kids do the same thing everywhere
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| They’ve sprayed graffiti in Arabic
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| And balanced sticks in human shit
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| This is the Ministry Of Remains
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| Fizzy drinks cans and magazines
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| Broken glass, a white jawbone
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| Syringes, razors, a plastic spoon
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| Human hair, a kitchen knife
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| And a ghost of a girl who runs and hides
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| Scratched in the wall in biro pen
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| This is how the world will end
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| There’s the bus depot to the right
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| Levelled like a building site
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| Those are the children’s cries from the dark
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| These are the words written under the arch
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| Scratched in the wall in biro pen
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| This is how the world will end |