| On polling day you started off great
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| There was no one on the streets
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| The poll was day
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| I got to go to city today
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| But I ain’t thought right
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| Said you don’t feel well
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| We all got drunk on posting day
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| Hoping it tastes the same
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| But it goes away every time
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| It ain’t no result in that
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| The movement was posted away
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| The human link, it comes OK
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| She does not take time to talk to herself
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| Resultin' in a star
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| West tipper got up, they invented to pollute and postin' by
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| And we said so… goodbye
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| It was easy then, all for the good, I coulda been better though
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| Yeah, Go! |
| Go! |
| You’re gone!
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| Everybody feels they got to find in
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| And the north from the south who watches him sy
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| It doesn’t take time to intelligent sight
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| But the thought was there
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| And that’s alright, so we all got drunk and got on the ball
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| And found the same time
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| Everything was out the phone
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| It doesn’t get that much sly
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| Go!
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| On polling day, you turned up right
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| It was a cart full of them
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| And the ship was nice
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| I didn’t mean to be
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| It wasn’t the same
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| But if you do it again
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| Then find my soul
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| And we all get drunk on the firing day
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| And take ourselves to sea, sea
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| Yeah that’s enough for anyone
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| Pickin' it out for them
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| Go |