| In the Fatherland! |
| In Disneyland! |
| Or all England?
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| They say religion, the wounded pigeon, is back in fashion
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| I said you’re joking, you must be smoking 'some kind of thing'
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| Take Las Vegas in a cab take a stab all or nothing
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| With ice cold hands your solitude stays with me
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| Give me concrete and steel, wake up and make believe
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| Mickey Mouse on the bed, all in my head
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| Give me Jesus in the arena going down nice and dirty
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| Where Man is mortal, God is always clean. |
| I fell from the sky
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| I was born in a bed, is it right to ask why, all in my head?
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| Honesty and poverty are strangers to me
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| Humanity is what I used to be
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| The mediocre have taken over
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| Propaganda!
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| I am a cow, I am a horse, where truth is a stranger
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| Where neighbours on the payroll shoot me down nice and dirty
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| Infra red on the wall which one of us will fall?
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| So free me from the Preachies, save me from myself
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| Eat a Fuck-Mac stew my brain, Soylent Green once again!
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| Mea culpa! |
| Mea ultima culpa!
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| Psycho siege urban whine, at the end of the line
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| Do you hate or do you feel?
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| Feed your head. |
| Strangelove in Jakarta, or is it the Metric Martyr?
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| Praise the women who kill, feed your head
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| I kiss the Saints that are dead,
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| I kiss the Witches in their bed
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| Taste the blood if it’s real, feed your head
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| Bless the bed I lay upon, bless the Angels around my head
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| Shudder me if I’m wrong, but hear my breath |