| Good morning Mister Customs Man
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| how do you do today?
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| I ain’t got much in my bag
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| but I guess you’re gonna check 'em anyway
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| You’re always hunting and searching
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| and looking for something
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| What it is you will not say
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| There’s no false bottom in my suitcase
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| no surprises in my clothes
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| No bootleg liquor in my bottle
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| nothing but holes in my coat
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| but still you’re hunting and searching
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| and looking for something
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| What it is God only knows!
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| I’ve got a woman back in London
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| treats me like a king
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| I know three girls down in Dublin
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| who love to dance and sing
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| (the only trouble is)
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| they’re always hunting and searching
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| and looking for something
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| they call the real thing
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| Now I can see Mister Customs Man
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| you’re a busy cat
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| and it’s really such a shame
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| you don’t have time to stop and chat
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| For all your hunting and searching
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| well I’ll tell you something…
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| It’s under my hat! |