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So fire it is |
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To make our dark streets clean again |
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Like a 'reset' button on our lives |
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Like hands of God |
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Just dusting off the blackboard |
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And with all we've worked for gone |
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And all we cherished lost |
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We can start again |
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So play your violin |
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And breathe the sulphur in |
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Take it on the chin |
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As London sheds its skin |
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Play your violin |
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And try to hide your grin |
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As it burns away your sin |
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And London sheds its skin |
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"Where are your churches and libraries? |
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Where are your books and your memories?" |
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We burned it all |
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We burned it all... |