| All these fads
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| It’s shoulder pads
|
| On New Year’s Dawn
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| To my surprise
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| All the Macca lads stayed at home
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| Picking antiques
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| Encloses
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| Cosy fleck with green bits
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| Main undercurrent, white spermatoze
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| My powers
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| Against them, half-useless
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| My senses
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| Alive have party
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| Was embarrassed but stuck with them
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| Walked, at shoulder, down the street, ridicule
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| They couldn’t tell Lou Reed from Doug Yule
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| Suppressed hate romance
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| It was like being back at school
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| My powers before them resound
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| My powers heard language, two-time doom
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| Win populace, internal defeat
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| Their mob had a coup d’etat
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| Realize what they’d always wanted
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| Knew I was right all along
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| It wasn’t then a Beatles song
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| Superhero in harlequin kecks
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| Dim-wit lecture, half read
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| Cursing black singers ten years dead
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| Was a clown in victim hat
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| Was shouldered and spurned
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| Then my powers did return… |