I'm not theirs in product or in name
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But I've got no true discretion I can speak of
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You can make your own distinctions but it's all the fucking same
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It's servitude for someone else's sake
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And I dream I'm gonna give'em the old heave ho!
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And my every thought turns to overthrow (Let's go!)
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And I strive to bite the hand that's feeding me at last
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And carry on the banner of the working class
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When I'm dead on my feet or shackled to the beat
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I'm always looking back over my shoulder
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They make me paranoid and relegate me to defeat
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A fate that fits me like an oak box
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The long hard days of dead monotony
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The foreman looking down, so paternal
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I'll curse the fucking hours cause I know they're not for me
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But for now I'll carry on on borrowed time
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|
-----------------
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Borrowed Time
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The GC5 |