| When I graduated high school
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| College not my scene
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| So I got a job at home for me
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| Feeling good about my opportunity
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| It’s got benefits and decent pay… but they say
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| We hit a stalemate, looks bleak for us
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| A strike or lock-out or wholesale bust
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| Think to myself what a hell of a start
|
| As we file down to Kate’s Tavern
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| Katie, bar the door, we are jumping off the rails
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| Any hope for calm went John B. Sails
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| We’re in your pub tonight to sing of good days left behind
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| And raise a glass to better times
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| The rumor mill’s dispelled the official word comes down
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| They’re gonna move our jobs real far away
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| Settle to another country where mistreatment for the workers is so commonplace.
|
| . |
| the judge says
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| «We cannot stop them, they’re free to go»
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| He looks me in the eyes he says «I can’t help you son»
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| Whatever happened to America?
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| She was sold twenty-six fuckin' long years ago
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| Katie, bar the door, we are jumping off the rails
|
| Any hope for calm went John B. Sails
|
| We’re in your pub tonight to sing of good days left behind
|
| And raise a glass to better times
|
| Hey, Hey, Hey, Hey
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| Hey, Hey, Hey, Hey
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| Why sing about the unions again?
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| They have all died away
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| We are now in the midst of a brand new world economy
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| I don’t believe them, I won’t despair
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| They are regrouping, they’re coming back to stay
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| Twelve percent can climb back up to fifty percent
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| Once again, my friend, a message we’ll send
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| Katie, bar the door, we are jumping off the rails
|
| Any hope for calm went John B. Sails
|
| We’re in your pub tonight to sing of good days left behind
|
| And raise a glass to better times
|
| Katie, bar the door, we are jumping off the rails
|
| Any hope for calm went John B. Sails
|
| We’re in your pub tonight to sing of good days left behind
|
| And raise a glass to better times
|
| We’ll raise a glass to better times
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| We’ll raise a glass to better times |