| Riot, riot, riot crossed this land
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| In pork pie hats and denim masks and furious knife clutched hands
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| It was a bank holiday for languages lost
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| Being armed to the teeth to face this curse
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| If you’ve always used establishment
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| We’ve always used piss off to change the intonation in this verse
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| As curlew dies and structures burn laid barren as then night falls
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| Wandering zombies smoldering from the top
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| See their dead in our burned out halls
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| When all is done special branch comes through
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| With police finish off the rest of the best
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| Evacuated barren and I now know who’s dead
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| As parliament wakes and yawns deep from the chest
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| Well, and the sun burns up the night
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| And the boot heels click
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| And the engines burn and John Major gets sick
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| And American soldiers station themselves
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| Round Serbian oil wells
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| And four course five star dinners down by the wakening church’s bells
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| Well, we don’t believe this way has worked
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| We’ll burn down this mind set
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| Burning all your American illusions up
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| We’ll show you what, where and when we’re at
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| Well, almost everyone knows what homelessness is
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| And everyone know ‘bout death
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| And you can’t give morals onto either one
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| Or justify it or come back and say it was worth the test
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| Well, when you give death — you get death back
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| That’s the way the cycle works
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| Well, when you’ve taken — you get things taken from you
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| That’s situational, that’s your friends
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| You’ve kept while doing the dirt
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| Riot, riot, riot, riot! |