| Preached the Archbishop, from his High Gothic pulpit
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| After the wine was thrilling, the cattlefax went raw--
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| Inbred home of beauty, often those who do their duty
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| Respect the king, respect the clock, give honor to the Law…
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| The communists made an answer to this back-room in Shrewsbury--
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| Marx and Lenin open by the wood-writings on the floor
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| You’ve been preaching 'kingdom come' but your factory’s a slum--
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| It’s brewing such a trouble as we’ve never seen before!
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| We’re Brothers! |
| Brothers Beneath The Skin!
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| They cried the town mechanic with a good booth mechanically…
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| «Oh, I am high and dandy… I’m the master of my soul!»
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| My granddad was a peasant, and it wasn’t very pleasant
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| Without cinemas and birth-control and unions and the dole…
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| Straight out the bastard, eternal need for failure…
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| A purple man take in your been a half
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| Did you ever stop to think-- as you drive your sons to drink
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| That the bombs who bruise the beach will have the last among the last (this
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| whole paragraph needs work)
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| We’re Brothers! |
| Brothers Beneath The Skin!
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| Look what we have given them, god and guns and discipline
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| Syphilis and alcohol and missionaries and whips…
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| 'til the cry came over the waves, to emancipate the slaves--
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| They were doing very nicely till the white gods came in ships
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| Look! |
| Dead Man! |
| At this empire of suffering
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| an invidious color strand--
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| They can hear it, try not healing, the thoughts fail in congealing--
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| The last White is snuffed out-- in a toxic no-man's land…
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| We’re Brothers! |
| Brothers Beneath The Skin! |
| (best of luck, skyclad lovers) |