They're dropping bombs again and they're doing it in your name
All the rational commentaries in the papers that I read
Marmalade and buttered toast and smell of Sunday roast
Kiss the arse of Uncle Sam to be an Englishman
When you hear the sound of warning when the only colour is red
Red sky in the morning everywhere I'm seeing red
Dawn brings a day of hell hours that we pawn and sell
A single magpie in the tree one for sorrow one for me
Kick it off the cliff I said now the line fucks up my head
Too late to change this mode break all my moral codes
Running from myself again and all I feel is shame
It doesn't matter where I go everywhere still looks the same
This sense of emptiness as we create this mess
Self-destructive tendencies are what you mean to me
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