| Kids are playing gangster wars
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| They don’t believe in Santa Claus
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| The baseball bats are soft of course
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| The blood is just tomato sauce
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| As icebergs go, it’s just the tip
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| The start of the apprenticeship
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| A short, sharp Glasgow, kiss me quick
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| Karate chop and Kung fu kick
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| And in the wings the grannies wait
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| Doing things that grannies hate
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| Queuing to accumulate
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| A pittance from the welfare state
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| Then back home on a forty four
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| Put the chain on, lock the door
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| Cross another five bar gate
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| Sit and wait
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| Don’t open the door don’t talk to strangers
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| You’ve not met before
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| Your guardian angel will watch over you
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| If your guardian angel has got nothing to do
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| In space no one can hear you scream
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| Because no one’s really listening
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| Saint Peter’s got his gates to clean
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| And God’s too busy saving queens
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| To ever get down off the fence
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| And give the meek their inheritance
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| So it’s only common sense
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| To get yourself some self-defense
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| Don’t open the door don’t talk to strangers
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| You’ve not met before
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| Your guardian angel will watch over you
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| If your guardian angel has got nothing to do
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| Don’t open the door don’t talk to strangers
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| You’ve not met before
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| Your guardian angel will watch over you
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| If your guardian angel has got nothing to do
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| And so we leave this nursery rhyme
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| This grizzly gruesome pantomime
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| From the cradle to a life of crime and back again
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| And now it’s time to say goodbye |