| Little girls, little girls will save us
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| Little virgins pure as snow
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| When the end of the world is upon us
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| When there’s no place left to go
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| The public loves a flogging or a public execution
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| When you behead the blood is red, there’s no other solution
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| The public loves severity, the cutting-off of tongues
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| The torture of the foreigner, the rattle of the guns
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| But little girls, little girls will save us
|
| Though they may seem weak and frail
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| The human-headed Blengins of Calverine Island
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| Save the world from epic fail
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| And our life is a nest of vipers
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| Our behaviour a world of pain
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| And our life is windscreen wipers
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| Trying to keep up with the rain
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| Speak harshly to your fellow man and slap him when he slackens
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| Try imposing martial law, sit back and see what happens
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| The milk of human kindness is old and out of date
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| The public needs a populist to make the nation great
|
| But little girls, little girls will save us
|
| Though they may seem weak and frail
|
| The human-headed Blengins of Calverine Island
|
| Save the world from epic fail
|
| The public is sadistic and its bloodlust knows no bounds
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| The tiniest infraction and it throws you to the hounds
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| The public needs a figurehead, a filthy kind of father
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| To objectify its anger, and its hatred of the other
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| But we’ll defeat the Glandolinian vandals
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| For the sake of the Vivian Girls
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| With the cumulonimbus behind us
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| The dearest flowers in all the world
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| Little girls, little girls will save us
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| In the lightning and the summer snow
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| When the end of the world is upon us
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| When there’s no place left to go |