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(Furler, Joel)
the tear gas has blown away put down your crumpets and your coffee now so unfashionably late
underwater we go out of our ordinary selves stepping out to where the people sing
-and the people sing -and the times are good
i call it killing the fool you carry more baggage than a momma's boy on your first day of school
drop the hands the chains that bind me turn it all around stop, lift you up 'n die to self in a time when the left and the right's the same when it's all blurred vision in a crazy haze send out the invitations! you say i'm acting like
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