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Gallows - Cruci****s |
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Nail the bodies to the crucifix, |
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slit the throats of all the priests. |
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The last smile they will ever expect |
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a gaping hole running right through their neck. |
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Snakes get fat while the good rats die, |
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all the pigs should be bled dry. |
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Who's with me? |
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All your sins will be forgiven |
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when your blood begins to thicken. |
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You have the answers to our questions, |
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god bless this great depression. |
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The snakes get fat while the good rats die, |
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and all the pigs should be bled dry. |
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Who's with me? |
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Throw the bodies into the streets, |
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nothing more than rotten meat. |
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Taught not to bite the hand that feeds, |
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Til its cold and dry and no longer bleeds. |
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The snakes get fat while the good rats die, |
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so all the pigs should be bled dry. |
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The London metropolitan, |
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all the ****ing clergy men, |
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child abusers, national front, |
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rapists, racists, all ****ing scum. |
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And they march hand in hand |
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to rape our green and pleasant land. |
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Dust to dust, earth to earth, |
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the new born babies drowned at birth. |
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And there's no future for England's son, |
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there nine years old and they all carry guns. |
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Take out your crowbars, take out your knives, |
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drain out your blood we all deserve to die. |
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It's time for us to take a stand, |
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we are dying on our knees in this grey broken land. |
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And all the martyrs they have convinced themselves, |
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that death ain't a sin when your living in hell. |
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There ain't no glory and there ain't no hope, |
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we will hang ourselves, just show us the rope. |
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There ain't no scapegoats left to blame. |
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We brought this on ourselves, |
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and we could have been the change. |
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Great Britain is ****ing dead so cut our throats, |
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end our lives, lets ****ing start again. |
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