| See them sitting, in the rain
|
| As the sky is darkening
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| Three lines of traffic are edging past
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| The ministry of social affairs
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| At a junction on the ground
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| An amputee and a pregnant hound
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| Sit by the young men with withered arms
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| As if death had already passed
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| Through every alleyway, and left
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| A million beggars silhouettes
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| Near where the money changers sit
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| By their locked glass cabinets
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| What has happened, let’s go and ask
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| The ministry of social affairs
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| Near where the money changers sit
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| By their locked glass cabinets
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| That’s what they want, oh yeah
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| Money, honey
|
| That’s what they want, oh yeah
|
| Money, honey
|
| That’s what they want, oh yeah
|
| Money, honey
|
| That’s what they want, oh yeah
|
| Money, honey
|
| That’s what they want, oh yeah
|
| Money, honey
|
| That’s what they want, oh yeah
|
| Money, honey |