Hung Up Down

What the hell bad eggs don't smell

When glossed with sleek perfume

So who's to cry, the politicians' lie

When they know damn well that they do

Maybe they're hung up down next stop

They'll maybe turn around

Every other way, every other way than

I want them to be

Is it so sad when men turn bad

To rob and steal from friends

While men who count large bank amount

Make wars for their own ends

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The grossest spew of World War Two

Turns some men inside out

But make them ride with coal black hides

They're not so pure throughout

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