| I’m walking through these pastures
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| I’m picking up sweet fruit
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| I’m shaking hands with people
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| That previously I’d shoot
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| But nothing will dissuade me
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| Nothing will dilute
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| I want to execute
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| I want to execute
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| And you tend to meet a lot of scum en route
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| It doesn’t mean you’ve joined the other side
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| And because I still wear shorts and my smile is oh so cute
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| It doesn’t mean I’ll run away and hide
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| To a world where the leaders finally confess
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| (I think the answer’s yes, I think the answer’s yes)
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| To the burning of the Stock Exchange and bombing of the press
|
| (I think the answer’s yes, I think the answer’s yes)
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| I think the answer’s yes, yes, yes, I think the answer’s yes
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| I’m walking through these corridors
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| Where crime meets pantomime
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| They’re laughing and they’re drinking
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| On the swill of overtime
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| And no-one seems to know about
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| The death-wish that they’ve signed
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| Ah, life’s unkind
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| Ah, life’s unkind
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| And they see me as a potential new recruit
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| They rub their hands, slap their backs and smile
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| But I still wear suspenders underneath my business suit
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| So needn’t worry about me for a while
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| So to a world without hunger, where royalty face death
|
| (I think the answer’s yes, I think the answer’s yes)
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| To the breaking down of barriers of North, South
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| East and West
|
| (I think the answer’s yes, I think the answer’s yes)
|
| I think the answer’s yes, yes, yes, I think the answer’s yes
|
| I think the answer’s yes, yes, yes, I think the answer’s yes
|
| And no-one seems to know about
|
| The death-wish that they’ve signed
|
| Ah, life’s unkind
|
| Ah, life’s unkind
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| Life’s unkind, life’s unkind
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| From poor old U2 to poor old Simple Minds
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| No amnesty for murderers of poor old working class
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| Rope or gas, rope or gas, rope or gas
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| No amnesty for murderers of poor old working class
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| Rope or gas, rope or gas… |