| Well it’s a state of mind
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| Waiting indoors for the rabbit-pie day
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| And scream for your life in cockle-row
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| Crash and merino
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| And the dead-dears from Mesapotamia say
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| 'Bible-jack you’re slipping back'
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| And don’t bore us with your elastic dreams
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| Preaching poison and the politics of death
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| Well it’s a state of mind
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| When you’re dripping in the dark
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| Like a summer-breathed slave
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| Cut your bone with my knife
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| Come up and see me boys, i’m dead all the time
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| Waiting to light up like a doggy in death-row
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| But you kindly refuse when they offer you the chair
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| Did you ever have faith in my human face
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| Before I sucked you and bled you dry
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| Now see you fall victim to my greedy desires
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| See me fall heavily knees to the floor
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| Well it’s a state of mind
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| Before and after and 'how's your father'
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| Still waiting to light up like a doggy in death-row
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| Throwing your dinner up and licking up the pieces
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| Now he listens carefully to the white bone talking
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| And now he sits and quietly talks to himself all day |