(Ian Hunter/Mick Ralphs)
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Well my brother he was a drinking man
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And I asked him for release
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He said this won't do you no good
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And sent for the police
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Well they busted me for nothing
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Cos they said I was insane
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So they let my body go
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But they locked away my brain
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Well I wandered freely as a bird that had broken both its wings
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And I hated them and they hated me and I hated everthing
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And I realise that to survive well my body is not mine
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And I feel neglected feel rejected
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Living in the wrong time
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And to those of you who always laugh
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Let this be your epitaph
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And my head is down and I'm called a clown by comedians that grace
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The living stage of every page of worthless meaningless space
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But I swear to you before we're though you're gonna feel our every blow
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We ain't bleeding you we're feeding you but you're too f*cking slow
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And to those of you who always laugh
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Let this be your epitaph
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The Moon Upstairs
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Mott the Hoople |