| Here he comes, he’s coming down the street
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| With his drunken wife and the kids he beats
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| He’s gonna tell you that life is hard
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| And then he’ll dump his trash in your backyard
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| You’ll hear lots of jokes about the racially pure
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| When Mr. X moves in next door
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| Just take a walk on the ignorant side
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| And you’ll get to see what goes on in his mind
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| Just take a walk on the ignorant side
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| And you’ll get to see through his eyes
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| There he goes, now he’s on the lawn
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| With his Sans-a-Belt pants and his Hush Puppies on
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| The sky is blue and the bees are buzzin'
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| He must be the product of those two first cousins
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| He’s got a rifle and a low I. Q
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| He doesn’t close his mouth when he chews his food
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| Oh, please, dear God, strike him dead
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| Aim a lightning bolt straight through his head
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| Oh, please, Reverend Sun Yung Moon
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| Send someone to kill him soon
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| Oh, Mohammed, Prophet of Allah
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| Run him over in his own Impala
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| Oh, please, kill him, Shirley MacLaine
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| Take a pipe and bash in his brain
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| Here he comes, he’s driving 'round the block
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| Sticking pamphlets in your mailbox
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| Inviting your kids to an Aryan Youth Camp
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| Moving his ammo when the basement gets damp
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| Training his dog to attack your cat
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| Hitting your mower with a baseball bat
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| Just take a walk on the ignorant side (take a walk)
|
| And you’ll get to see what goes on in his mind
|
| Just take a walk on the ignorant side
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| And you’ll get to see through his eyes
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| Here he comes into your life
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| With about as much charm as a Bowie knife
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| He’ll swim in your pool when you’re not home
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| And steal your tools and your garden gnomes
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| Here he comes, he’s coming down the street
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| With his drunken wife and the kids he beats |