| There’s a tramp sittin' on my doorstep
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| Tryin' to waste his time
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| With his methylated sandwich
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| He’s a walking clothesline
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| And here comes the bishop’s daughter
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| On the other side
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| She looks a trifle jealous
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| She’s been an outcast all her life
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| Me, I’m waiting so patiently
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| Lying on the floor
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| I’m just trying to do my jig-saw puzzle
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| Before it rains anymore
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| Oh the gangster looks so fright’ning
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| With his luger in his hand
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| When he gets home to his children
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| He’s a family man
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| But when it comes to the nitty-gritty
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| He can shove in his knife
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| Yes he really looks quite religious
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| He’s been an outlaw all his life
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| Me, I’m waiting so patiently
|
| Lying on the floor
|
| I’m just trying to do this jig-saw puzzle
|
| Before it rains anymore
|
| Me, I’m waiting so patiently
|
| Lying on the floor
|
| I’m just trying to do this jig-saw puzzle
|
| Before it rains anymore
|
| Oh the singer, he looks angry
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| At being thrown to the lions
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| And the bass player, he looks nervous
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| About the girls outside
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| And the drummer, he’s so shattered
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| Trying to keep up time
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| And the guitar players look damaged
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| They’ve been outcasts all thier lives
|
| Me, I’m waiting so patiently
|
| Lying on the floor
|
| I’m just trying to do this jig-saw puzzle
|
| Before it rains anymore
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| Oh, there’s twenty-thousand grandmas
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| Wave their hankies in the air
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| All burning up their pensions
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| And shouting, «It's not fair!»
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| There’s a regiment of soldiers
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| Standing looking on
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| And the queen is bravely shouting,
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| «What the hell is going on?»
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| With a blood-curdling «tally-ho»
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| She charged into the ranks
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| And blessed all those grandmas who
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| With their dying breaths screamed, «Thanks!»
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| Me, I’m just waiting so patiently
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| With my woman on the floor
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| We’re just trying to do this jig-saw puzzle
|
| Before it rains anymore |