| The first war, the war of 14 to 18
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| Begins with an uprising of adrenalin
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| The first war begins with the testicles descending
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| And desire assassinating the child that you once were
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| The war begins at school when you rebel against the maths teacher
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| Who touched you up behind his desk
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| And ends when you’ve failed your final maths exam
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| And had your first success with sex
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| The war brings new discoveries
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| How to make dog fights with your thyroid and pituitary glands
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| How the Zeppelin can fly at your command
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| And a generation lays down its life
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| When after all they’ve done for you
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| The good parents die
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| Resurrected as your enemy
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| And when the girl you’ve started wanting
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| More than all you’ve ever wanted says «no»
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| She is, she is your enemy too
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| But you survive
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| And from the trenches of your newly found opinions
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| Freshly dug, quickly abandoned
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| The white flag waves for an armistice on Christmas Day
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| Then your voice rings round the family front room
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| Like a drill sergeant’s in front of his platoon
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| Broken, broken too soon
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| But you survive
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| The second war, the war of 39 to 45
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| Begins when you identify your own inner Third Reich
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| The second war begins with a sudden hypochondria
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| A visit to a doctor who waves a piece of paper and says
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| «This time it’s just a false alarm»
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| The war begins at work with some intoxicating news
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| When the letter comes that offers you promotion
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| And ends when you decide to let them offer it
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| To younger men with more ambition
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| The war brings new perspectives when you suddenly see through
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| The politics of power which possessed you
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| Through all your waking hours
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| And a generation lays down its life
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| When the whizz kids of the industry
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| Slow down, slow down and die
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| Resurrected as your enemy
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| And when the woman who accepted you
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| When all the rest rejected you goes
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| She is, she is your enemy too
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| But you survive
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| And at weekends you get custody of an only child
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| Already adolescent and unreconciled
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| Who laughs at you, you and your new-found piety
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| And his laugh rings round your faint desire for god
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| Like an order from an inner firing squad
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| Breaking, breaking the ties of blood
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| But you survive
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| But the third war is the war that never comes
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| The war that never comes to everyone
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| Begins the second after next by accident
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| Ends everything except itself
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| The war brings nothing, the unimaginable
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| That the old imagine all the time
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| Imagine imagination dying
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| And a generation lays down its life
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| When it refuses the creation
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| Of new ways, new ways to live
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| And when the great invention falls apart
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| Ripping through the atoms of your heart
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| The third war, the third war will start
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| Which no-one survives |