| Standin' in the middle of a Roman street
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| Marble dust all over my feet
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| Bearded masses at the gates
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| Dancin' in the ruins while it’s not too late
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| Drivin' a Rolls through old Bombay
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| Rickshaw driver’s in my way
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| Well he’d better move over and he’d better move fast
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| Dancin' in the ruins of a golden past
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| Dancin' in the ruins of the Raj
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| Queen and country’s noble cause
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| Standin' on the banks of the river Seine
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| I ain’t got tuppence to my name
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| Stand my ground and I cast my net
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| Dancin' in the ruins where the sun don’t set
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| Dancin' in the ruins of the Crown
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| Enfield rifles keepin' us down
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| I got a thirty-aught-six and a premium load
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| In a shotgun shack on a two lane road
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| Smack in the middle of the Bible Belt
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| Dancin' in the ruins all by myself
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| We got the National Guard with the bayonets
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| We got the ten commandments on the State House steps
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| We shalt not steal and we shalt not kill
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| Dancin' in the ruins of our own free will
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| Dancin' in the ruins of the South
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| Confederate flag taped over my mouth
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| We thank thee Lord for all we got
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| While the multinationals call the shots
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| So scrape them hides and clean that slate
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| Dancin' in the ruins of the nation-state
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| We’ll fight 'em on the land, we’ll fight 'em in the air
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| Little cowboy says «We gotta fight 'em over there»
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| You ain’t seen nothing like it since Saigon fell
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| Dancin' in the ruins 'cause we might as well
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| Dancin' in the ruins of the realm
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| A fool and a mad man at the helm
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| Dancin' in the ruins of the Reich
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| Down in the bunker on a hunger strike |