| It was a nice clean assassination
|
| The gunman slipped through immigration
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| Like the gentle wind that swept the plain
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| And ruffled over waves of grain
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| Sailing safely out of sight
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| On board the next connecting flight
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| The gunman smiled, he felt no pain
|
| So high above the waves of grain
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| Then someone snatched the video away
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| From the hands of a tourist at the game
|
| And soon a blast on board the plane
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| Sent it crashing into the waves of grain
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| The blown up stills told the story
|
| Large as life in all its glory
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| A man’s face in the 29th frame
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| Appeared within the waves of grain
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| Now the pictures have been confiscated
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| The tourist was incarcerated
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| The drugs they gave him numbed his brain
|
| Now all he sees are waves of grain
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| Now rummaging through the ravaged rubble
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| I wonder, is it worth the trouble?
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| Does the slightest trace of truth remain?
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| Running through the waves of grain |