| Will you still love me, will you still hug me,
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| When I’m 84,
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| When I’ve been working all my life,
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| And I’m still bloody poor?
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| Dust in my lungs, a broken back,
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| Still can’t retire it hurts,
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| I’m all for workers' rights and that,
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| As long as I don’t have to work,
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| So hats off to the schemers, to the scroungers, to the rats,
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| To the ones who sleep on mattresses on the floor, clutching baseball bats,
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| To the beggars and the cheaters and the kings who rise at noon,
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| To the scoundrels, the misfits, the parasites, this one’s for you,
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| «Don't send me on another New Deal course, I can already spell my name,
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| you lot take the piss»
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| Maybe I’ll never shoot a rabbit,
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| Perhaps I’ll never drink champagne,
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| But that’s alright with me,
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| I prefer cider anyway,
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| I’m happy doing nothing,
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| They tell me it’s all a waste,
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| But I ain’t never seen no 3 piece suit,
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| So hats off to the schemers, to the scroungers, to the rats,
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| To the ones who sleep on mattresses on the floor, clutching baseball bats,
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| To the beggars and the cheaters and the kings who rise at noon,
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| To the scoundrels, the misfits, the parasites, this one’s for you,
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| «I searched all the newspapers and made my CV, I swear there just ain’t nothing
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| out there»
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| A 9 to 5, 5 days a week,
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| Is bottom of my list,
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| I just couldn’t live with myself,
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| Knowing there was something that I missed,
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| So don’t go telling me «Take it seriously»,
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| Believe me I do,
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| But life’s for living, not for working,
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| And I got better things to do,
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| So hats off to the schemers, to the scroungers, to the rats,
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| To the ones who sleep on mattresses on the floor, clutching baseball bats,
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| To the beggars and the cheaters and the kings who rise at noon,
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| To the scoundrels, the misfits, the parasites, this one’s for you. |