| They recycled all the cripples; |
| resurrected all the dead
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| In a technicolour sundown, they had 'em standing on their heads
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| Now they’re propping up our front line, but behind them is a plague
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| Maybe the whole shit finished months ago, but they just forgot to say…
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| And I’m proud to say I made it — sweet 16 and I’d like to share a glass
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| But this rot wine turns my inside out and I can’t drink it through this mask…
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| You remember how it started — all the liberation stuff;
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| How the man would tip his beret — he was really one of us
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| My milk turned to Mecca, my face fell to the floor
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| I think I’ve found the key to Heaven, but I cannot find the door |