| Didn’t I see you down in San Antone
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| On a hot and dusty night?
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| We were eating eggs in Sammy’s
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| When the black man there drew his knife
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| Aw!!! |
| you drowned that Jew in Rampton
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| As he washed his sleeveless shirt
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| You know, that Spanish speaking gentlemen
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| The one that we all called «Kurt»
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| Come now, gentlemen
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| I know there’s some mistake
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| How forgetful I’m becoming
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| Now!!! |
| you fixed your business straight
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| I remember you in Hemlock Road
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| Back In nineteen fifty-six
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| You’re a faggy little leather boy with
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| A smaller piece of stick
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| You’re a lashing
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| Smashing hunk of man;
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| Your sweat shines
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| Sweet and strong
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| Your organ’s working perfectly
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| But there’s a part
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| That’s not screwed on
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| Weren’t you at the Coke convention
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| Back in nineteen sixty-five
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| You’re the misbred
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| Grey executive
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| I’ve seen heavily advertised
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| You’re the great grey man
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| Whose daughter licks
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| Policemen’s buttons clean
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| You’re the man who squats behind
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| The man who works the soft machine
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| Come now, gentlemen
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| Your love is all I crave
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| You’ll still be in the circus
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| When I’m laughing
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| Laughing in my grave
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| When the old men do the fighting
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| And the young men all look on
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| And the young girls eat
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| Their mothers' meat
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| From tubes of plasticon
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| Be wary please my gentle friends
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| Of all the skins you breed
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| They have a tasty habit
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| They eat the hands that bleed
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| So remember who you say you are
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| And keep your noses clean
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| Boys will be boys and play
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| With toys so be strong
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| With your beast
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| Oh!!! |
| Rosie dear
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| Doncha think it’s queer
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| So stop me if you please
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| The baby’s dead
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| My lady said
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| You gentlemen
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| Why you all work for me!!! |