| Here once was a wee shop that an Irishman bought
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| In America, tried and true
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| But imports were scarce when they audit your wares
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| They keep you in court, is it racist or an easy target
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| Well, it’s you!
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| Landlord, landlord, I.O.U
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| Everyone should see this too
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| Landlord, landlord, thoughtless scum
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| Me duckin' bullets, lazy bum
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| Lock me out take most of my things
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| Smash the rest in the street as tenacy sings
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| Landlord, I hate you and I hate this place
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| I hate this fuckin’s city, nothing left for me to grace
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| All the tenants rush to collect my things
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| Cigarette walking down the road and I start to sing
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| Landlord won’t renew my lease
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| Pissin' everybody off as their rents increase
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| No grants of funds as promised
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| And this job’s for the fuckin' birds
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| How the hell can I get out of here
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| Well, it sure ain’t flippin' burgers
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| Grown to accept the system and work within the state, but struggling
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| Begging for a check instead of my productivity is quite irate
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| Being scared into believing that we have to make it on our own
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| Accomplishment measured by how much crap we own
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| Like trusting that with hard work all the senators made it there
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| Without the help of midnight basketball and the support of the British Air
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| I’m Irish, not white American male, it’s not the same
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| You try biking on through the West Side just to pay your rent in the rain
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| Looking out the window to see who has the power
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| Is it the whites or blacks or just the gun tower?
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| And we still, we still, we still pay all our dues
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| We still pay all our homage by ignorning their good news
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| And we still, we still, we pledge allegiance there
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| When someone’s almost paid the mortgage, till the system drops its snare |