Organ grinders and cannon fodder

I’m not sure who is paying the piper oreven what tune the piper is playingand I’m not staying around to find out,it’sgetting dangerous here. There’s something other than oxygen in the airand I want to be somewhere else…

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The observation ward

In an out of the way sort of waywhere every day thinks it’s a Saturdayit’s the weekend and boys who’ll be boysgo out to play, I stay in,cook the breakfastwash the dishesanddo the ironing, there isno fun in beingresponsible. The milk’s offgone sour,butwe all are and dosometimes…

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