| I never believed in the robber
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| I never saw nobody climb over my fence
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| No black bag, no gloved hand
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| I never believed in the robber
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| I figured everything he took was gone
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| Nothing to do, nothing to be done
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| I never believed in the robber
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| No I never believed in the robber
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| You never believed in the robber
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| You thought; |
| a robber must hate you to wanna take from you
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| The robber don’t hate you
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| You never believed in the robber but the robber never believed in you
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| He never saw you, he only saw what he would be allowed to do
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| No, the robber don’t hate you
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| The robber don’t hate you
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| He had permission, permission by words
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| Permission of thanks, permission of laws, permission of banks
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| White table cloth dinners, convention centres, it was all done real carefully
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| Make real imagination, make unreal that which can be taken
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| Turn your gaze from the window’s light
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| Turn your attention to this sharp knife
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| I never believed in the robber
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| When I was young, I learned how to make love to the robber
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| To dance with the other
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| To wring from his hand the touch of a lover
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| I never believed in the robber
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| Nobody taught me nothing was mine
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| If nothing was mine, taking was all there was
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| Looting at dawn looting at dusk
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| Hold open the gates for the want of lust
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| All I saw was the dust, kicked up |