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Lyrics - Folk Songs
INSANE

Hey there!
Said the man with the can of diet cola in his hand

Hey yeah!
Laughed the lodger pulling on a big fat roll up spurting flames

He’s weird!
Bitched the girl with the curl about the guy who was just shy

I’m there!
Huffed the loner with the boner special magazines and beer

Oh, what do you all know?
I think I’m getting old
‘Cos I question what I’m told
Yes, cynically I’m bold
But I listen to my flies
So if you think I’m insane
There’s worse that I could be
It’s just my thoughts are free

Have fear!
Preached the priest to his sheep in the house of love and peace

Bye dear!
Quacked the camp little tramp as she up’d and left the mass

Poor mare…
Smirked the pianist to his dearest though he loved that feline stare

Be scared!
Said the papers to the nations ‘bout the bombs that were not there

Hey there!
Sang the hippy with the trippy little guitar in his arms
‘There’s some real mother fuckers
In this world so leave the others’

Oh, what do you all know?
I think I’m getting old
‘Cos I question what I’m told
Yes, cynically I’m bold
But I listen to my flies
So if you think I’m insane
There’s worse that I could be
It’s just my thoughts are free

 
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