| They can walk on water or they can run
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| Depending on the story
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| Also by the same author
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| Volume one, violence death or glory
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| Sneaking out of the exit of B and Q
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| With a trolley load of trouble
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| Polycotton bedsheets some four by two
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| Petrol and a shovel
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| They’re off to see the wizardry that was
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| And the fire breathing dragons
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| Where history can’t repeat itself
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| Because history never happened
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| Juvenile delinquents are easy prey
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| To the bigotry and whining
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| Of a solar ring piece on a dreary day
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| And when the sun is shining down
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| On this little mining town
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| People come from miles around
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| To see the funny snarling clowns
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| But not you
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| You were the one I liked best
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| You were the grooviest dressed
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| The only loony left in town
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| And he was the one who persecuted Jews
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| And anybody different
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| He’s got a gun that he’s not afraid to use
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| On anybody with them
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| On the run 'coz he sexually abused
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| The devils latest signing
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| The center forward with the Swastika tattoos
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| Between the hours of twelve and two
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| The nagging doubts will come to you
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| Be paranoid parents 'coz they’re after your kids
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| You don’t know what an Aryan master race is
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| They’ll plant the seeds that will grow in time
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| And start the disease that will poison their minds
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| Fill them up with hatred and dress them up in robes
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| You know how the story goes
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| We’ve got one Mississippi
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| Two Mississippis, three Mississippis
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| Four Mississippis, five Mississippis, six Mississippis burning
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| We’ve got seven Mississippis, eight Mississippis
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| Nine Mississippis, ten Mississippis
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| Eleven Mississippis, twelve Mississippis
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| Burning, burning, burning
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| Burning down on this little mining town
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| Where people come from miles around
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| To see the funny snarling clowns
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| But not you
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| You were the one I liked best
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| You were the grooviest dressed
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| The only loony that’s left in town |