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Then I saw his face and I was a believer
It was the automatic rifles
The Nintendos and the Segas
And the half a dozen dead disciples And like many a fruitcake before him
He claimed to be the son of God
But like many a fruitcake before him
Maybe he really was

And meanwhile a black Maria
Leaves the hallowed halls of justice
Under a hail of phlegm and fire
From the assembled vigil-aunties and uncles

Hot Dogs!
Mid day crisis!

Ippa dippa dation no operation
Too many people at the station
Get in line behind the nation
The rest of life's fall-out patients
Who wake up every morning smiling
Stretching, yawning, breakfast-timing
Cut in slices, toasted brown
Then the mid day crisis comes around

And no, I'm not a believer
And no, I don't want to see your leaflets
I lost my faith with my taste for sausages and hate
And no you can't come in for tea and biscuits

Hot dogs!
Mid day crisis!

/home/cusmwikicom/ · Last modified: 2020/09/04 02:38 by parry