| The Egyptians built their pyramids
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| The Romans did what they did
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| Now everything’s come down to this
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| It’s just you and I, our kid
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| We could send a million to the Moon
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| But why can’t I get on with you?
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| With cellophane around my mouth
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| Stops the anger seeping out
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| Our deaf and dumb dinners
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| Gravy in the mud
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| No singles just fillers
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| Sometimes I wish I could, but…
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| I can’t behave
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| I know it’s not the heathen in me
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| It’s just that I’ve been bleeding lately
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| Internally, don’t turn to me
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| Bite your tongue, the torrid weapon
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| You could learn a useful lesson
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| What’s so great about the great depression?
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| Was it a blast for you?
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| 'Cause it’s blasphemy
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| Words cut like a knife through Vaseline
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| You can’t really mean what you mean
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| When you say what you say
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| Tourettes make them come out that way
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| «Wish I was here», well I wish you weren’t
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| Your gift of anger’s better burnt
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| If nothing’s said and nothing’s learnt
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| I thought I wasn’t but I’m really hurting
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| Our deaf and dumb dinners
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| There’s gravy in the mud and…
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| I can’t behave
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| No, it’s not the heathen in me
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| It’s just that I’ve been bleeding lately
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| Internally, don’t turn to me
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| And I’ll bide my tongue, the torrid weapon
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| I could learn a useful lesson
|
| What’s so great about the great depression?
|
| Was it a blast for you?
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| Blasphemy
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| Our great adventure
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| Christmas in the snow
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| Senile dementia maybe
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| What a way to go
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| I can’t behave
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| I know it’s not the heathen in me
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| It’s just that I’ve been bleeding lately
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| Internally, so turn to me
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| But bite your tongue, your torrid weapon
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| We could learn a useful lesson
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| Ain’t it great this great depression?
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| It’s not a blast for me
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| It’s blasphemy |