| There’s a fellow roaming round the street
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| I think most of all I’d like to meet
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| I must consider him a clever lad
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| Making like a young Sir Galahad
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| Everywhere I go I think he’s been
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| He autographs the walls around the scene
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| If you look hard enough you’ll find him there
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| In rooms of public places everywhere
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| Left his name around the place
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| Kilroy was here
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| Thought I’ve never seen his face
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| On a short vacation with my friends
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| I found I had time on my hands to spare
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| Surveyed my telescope around the land
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| And saw his name imprinted in the sand
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| (*repeat)
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| I wonder could he be a cavalier
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| Or a roving musketeer
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| Or just a dustman who’s insane
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| Everyplace regardless where or when
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| … strikes again and again and again
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| If I ever meet that man at all
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| I’ll hang a plague upon my bedroom wall
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| A monument erected in his name
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| Would help to contribute his name
|
| (*repeat)
|
| Kilroy was here
|
| Though I’ve never seen his face |