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McCarthy
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Hands Off or Die
Around the table sat the people Some were eating some were starving For there was never quite enough For each to have a share
Every day there was a murder Or a knifing with someone shouting 'Get your hands off you bastard That's my food you're eating' 'That does not do mother's salt on some' (?) Blamed the blackguard (?) Women didn't even get a ruping (?)
Every day an insane scramble just to get enough Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com They would rather kill someone than let somebody get too much
There was much din and they argued About the meaning of these things Some said the pittance should be shared out equally But some of them said it proved man was evil As they tucked into their enormous share
But the wisest of them said 'Till there's enough to go around The men's scramble will continue Fight to bring the system down'
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