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So Thatcher's slime escape again |
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More of the shit they make us take |
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Still no end to their sick reign |
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See Raygun's army rule again |
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Four more years to kill the sane |
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More of his napalm, neutron, hate |
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And meanwhile Russia sits and waits |
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Prepares her perfect time to take |
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The seconds gone, annihilate |
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There's a bomb gone off in Harrods yet another in Belfast |
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Well, I say bullocks to the army, in fact, kiss my arse |
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That army aims for one thing, it inflicts misery and pain |
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Well, for what you do to others, you must expect the same |
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In Eastern countries people cry |
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In Northern Ireland people die |
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America and England bank their lies |
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Throughout the whole world people cry |
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Throughout the whole world people die |
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Worldwide leaders fuck our lives |
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Murder, you scream murder, well |
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That's the way I look at things |
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But is it right to gun down children |
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Because they have got their own feelings? |
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These monsters that you title |
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You madden until insane |
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Well, in my book you're the bastard |
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Because to you it's just a game |
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Plunging deeper and deeper in a sea of degradation |
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Still looking for our answers to stop annihilation |
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Thatcher's barmy army who just shit upon the poor |
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Kinnock's fucking puppets for the people, fuck off |
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The police, the marines, all choose to side with them |
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The SAS, their hit man to break rebellion |
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They all don't give two fucks for us, so I've no time for them |
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They can build their Berlin walls but we will smash them down again |
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They tear our fucking earth in half |
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Expect us to slave for their behalf |
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They're fucking living in the past |
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It was your bomb in Harrods and they're your bombs in Belfast |
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Because that's what you have created, it is no fault of ours, you arse |
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These bastards that you're naming, why not try the mirror mate? |
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Because that bastards your reflection, your oppression creates the hate |