In lonely gas stations with mini-marts
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You'll find rows of them for sale
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Liquor-filled statues of Elvis Presley
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Drink like a vampire
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His disciples flock to such a fitting shrine
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Sprawled across from his graceless mansion
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A shopping mall
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Filled with prayer rugs and Elvis dolls
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And I wonder
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Yeah I wonder
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Will Elvis take the place of Jesus in a thousand years
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Religious wars
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Barbaric laws
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Bloodshed worldwide
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Over what's left of his myth
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A growing boy needs his lunch
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When pesticides get banned we're safe up north
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We just sell them to those other countries
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Soon there's lots of exotic deformed babies
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Somehow that's not our fault
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Just dip 'em in glaze paint 'em orange and green
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For the Arizona roadside stands
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To sell alongside plaster burros and birthbaths
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And I wonder
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Yeah I wonder
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Why so many insects around us feed off the dead
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Death squads
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Starvation
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Foreign aid?
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Just leave it to the magic of the marketplace
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A growing boy needs his lunch
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Everyone should just love each other
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Dip your toe into the fire
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Drop your guns and lawsuits and love each other
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Life begins beyond the bunker
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And while you're busy hugging in the streets
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Outgrowing your hatred for all to feel
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Jiminy Cricket's found a game to play
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Stick your neck out and trust-It'll be chopped away
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Jimmy through your locked front doors
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Rifle through your sacred drawers
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Line my pockets
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Deface your dreams
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Til the cows come home to me
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Nibbling like an earwig winding through your brain
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Bound like Lawrence Harvey spreadeagle to a bed
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The migraine gets worse when we find out we lay eggs
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And no one in all of Borneo can hear you scream
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Turn on
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Tune in
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Cop out
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Drop kick Turn in Tune out
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-----------------
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A Growing Boy Needs His Lunch
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The Dead Kennedys |