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Up above the sunny skies in south California |
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There's a wounded rocket flying high, heading homeward |
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It came from a hollow, under a hill |
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And soon there'll be nobody left to kill |
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In California |
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Last night captain Black went dancing at the Whiskey A-Go-Go |
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When a well-known groupie knocked him back, busted his ego |
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Stoned out of his head, he crawled off to bed |
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The following morning he went to the pad |
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The missile was standing pointing to the skies of California |
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The red balloon was flying high, watching the weather |
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Captain Black was trying hard to get it together |
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Immediate names came into his brain |
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A rocket from China, a Russian plane |
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He pushed the wrong button and soon there'll be no place called |
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California |