| Dance before the storm
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| These are dangerous time we live in
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| I heard a man once say
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| If you’re prone to flights of fancy
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| Your dreams can fly away
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| See the sights around you
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| Of breakdown and decay
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| Wrought by the greed for a better life
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| For which you have to pay
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| From Glasgow town to London
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| Down the motorway
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| There’s people standing in the rain
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| Looking for any way
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| To take them down to where they’re bound
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| It’s a part of another way
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| It’s called the art of survival
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| In a modern age
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| Dance before the storm
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| Don’t look back to where you’ve been
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| The horror’s even further
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| As the sands of time run thin
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| Dance before the storm
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| As the machinery breaks down
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| Watch the sky go black with anger
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| But no one makes a sound
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| From Albion Hill to the Old Chain Pier
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| You can hear a person say
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| Spare some change for all me pains
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| So if your head spins round, go underground
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| Away from the games they play
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| People down there are trying to care
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| And let each one have their say
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| It’s not revolution tactics
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| Or cause for anarchy
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| Just a natural fight for a natural life
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| Of which systems are afraid
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| And if it all surrounds you
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| Seems like there’s no escape
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| And there’s someone stood in front of you
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| Saying do it in their way
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| Turn your eyes towards the tides
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| See how they never change
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| The sands of time will break their mime
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| Like riding on a wave |