| Queen Boadicea is long dead and gone
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| Still the spirit
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| In her children’s children’s children
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| It lives on
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| If you’ve lost your faith in love of music
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| Oh the end won’t be long
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| Because if it’s gone for you then I too may lose it
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| And that would be wrong
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| You know I’ve tried so hard to keep myself from falling
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| Back into my bad old ways
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| And it chars my heart to always hear you calling
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| Calling for the good old days
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| Because there were no good old days
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| These are the good old days
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| It’s not about, tenements and needles
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| And all the evils in their eyes
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| And the backs of their minds
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| Daisy chains and school yard games
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| And a list of things we said we’d do tomorrow
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| A list of things we said we’d do tomorrow
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| The Arcadian dream has all fallen through
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| But the Albion sails on course
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| So man the decks and hoist the rigging
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| Because the pig mans found the source
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| And there’s twelve rude boys on the oars |